Lucky like the Irish (and if you look at their history you'll see why thats ironic)

Sometimes I think I am the least lucky person in the world. If a friend were to ask if I thought it would rain and I were to look up to see the condition of the clouds then when I answer the question I would be wiping the first raindrop from my eye. I used to think I am just spastic, but recently I came to the relization that not only am I debilitatingly clumsy but I also am very unlucky… usually.
The fact I run into as many walls as a pin ball and fall down more than apples from a tree has given me bizarrely quick reflexes. My bad luck on the other hand left me overly superstitious and more than slightly ritualistic in my habits. My friends tease me for some of my more blatant superstitions such as not saying the name of the Scottish Play, you know MacB, that infamous Shakespearian catastrophe in a book. I do not walk under ladders not do I wear green on Wednesday.
Sometimes, though, for no apparent reason, and without any kind of prompting my luck will spontaneously change. Yesterday I turned a profit at the vending machine. I put in 60 cents and it spit out $1.25, now it turns out the machine was broken so I did not get that coveted orange soda, but, I now could afford a bottle of Coke Zero when before I could only afford a can.
The truth is: Luck seems to anticipate not what you want but what you need then serves it to you at the opportune moment.