…or am I just going again?

This afternoon at fitness, the weirdest thing happened: a few weeks ago I’d used a locker that had the highly synchronistic number 42. You know, the meaning of , and Everything according to the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I’m quite sure it was in the top row, because the bottom row is entirely too low for my six six!

Today my wallet was heavy due to having to pay for the girls’ chihuahuas , so I opted for a locker again. Dove into the same general area, only to that the top row held just the ODD , and number 42 was now in the bottom row. When told, the lady at  the bar kept telling me I must have erred in my memories. To her at least it was an open and shut case. Good for her, but that doesn’t solve the conundrum for me: I absolutely remember having had locker 42 at the top level a few weeks back, especially because of the significance of that number for me, and my absolute dislike of lockers in the lower row.

We can safely assume nobody has messed the numbers just to fool me, so what, according to Occam’s Razor, is the simplest explanation to this?

Love your parallelity,

Dré