7/21/14 - Sweet Premonition

I was on the job, cutting grass at an apartment building. As I passed the property's parking lot, a tenant appeared. She waved. I waved.

Upon waving at this person, I was struck with the most vivid, yet obscure, of thoughts: candy and a thank-you note.

I saw it distinctly in my mind's eye, the type of sentimental gift that one might give their mailman at Christmas. Likewise, I had the thought that that tenant I'd waved at would give me one of these, though this was somewhat illogical, for I'd never, in two decades of cutting grass, received such a gift (nor expected or desired one, since it's not customary to give them to lawn-care workers, as far as I know).

And then it happened, just as I'd foreseen.

Several minutes later, when I finished cutting grass and returned to my truck, I was stopped by something on my toolbox: a small, sachet-like bag filled with fun-size candy bars. The bag also had a note, thanking me for cutting the lawn. The bag was left anonymously, in my absence, so I can't say it was from the tenant I'd waved at; but, really, it doesn't change things either way: I'd thought, for the first time, of receiving such a thank-you gift, just minutes before I received one, also for the first time.

Was it a simple synchronistic recurrence like those I've detailed, now with a theme of "sentimental candy thank-you gift"? Or, was this a classical case of a precognitive premonition? Or, alternately, did my thought cause it to happen, acting as some minute but effective force to trigger the receipt of my first ever thank-you candy? There's also the scenario of thought transference: did I "read" the tenant's intention to gift me some thank-you candy, in the brief yet mildly personal contact we had when waving at one another?

Then again, perhaps it was just a very unlikely coincidence. My life is highly coincidental, as it were.