It doesn't matter what table I choose at my favorite "seat yourself" restaurant. Before my food comes, and regardless of how many other tables are unoccupied, the table next to me will be chosen by either a family with a disgruntled child or someone shouting into their cellphone.
It doesn't matter which hands-free sink I choose in a public restroom. It's a crap shoot whether the soap or water dispenser will work, and the faucet will only extend an eighth of an inch over the bowl, no matter how big the sink is.
It doesn't matter which lane I choose at the toll booths or how many times the fare is posted. The person in front of me will spend several minutes hunting for change. They will wait to do this until we are far enough into the chute that I can't change lanes.
It doesn't matter what color dress pants I put on in the morning. If I choose a dark-colored pair, the white cat will rub up against my legs. If I choose a light-colored pair, the black dog will do it.
It doesn't matter what the calendar says. In Michigan, it snows in March. And April. And sometimes May.
It doesn't matter if things go wrong from time to time. Life is a wonderful and precious gift.