Good, Bad; Good? Bad?

On a trip to the car wash, I got a good look at my mind in action. Whatever happens, without really thinking, I automatically label it good or bad.
I'm so simple-minded. There's no subtlety in those black-and-white labels. So little thought at all.

Here's what happened . . .
  The city sent out a newsletter that had a coupon for a free car wash. I think, "good."
  Not only that, but I had the coupon in hand when I had time, the car, and was near the car wash. Also good.
  I was midway through the wash when one of the scrubbers tore off my side mirror! Bad! I was stunned. I'd been to this particular car wash several times before without incident, and I'd never heard of this happening.
   There was nothing I could do but sit there watching while the rest of the scrubbers played tetherball with my mirror, which was dangling from the side of my car by its cord. Bad!
  After exiting the wash, I talked to the manager, who immediately said they'd cover the cost of repairs. Good!
  But I was dreading telling R that the car we've been sharing now had a broken mirror. Bad!
  When I told him, however, he said "Good!" because now you can get a better mirror (it was one of the features of my car he wasn't fond of).

It's funny. (Note how I expanded my vocabulary from two words.) So was the experience good or bad? After all that up and down, I'm tempted to say I have no idea.

My comic car carma continued when I went to the dealer to get a new mirror installed. The attendant who took in my car locked my keys in the car! Bad. But also funny.
  He said not to worry because they could make another key. Good. And a spare would come in handy.
  The key didn't work; he said I must have had the locks rekeyed, which I'm sure wasn't the care. Bad.
  Don't worry - we can "break in." Sounds bad.
  On the phone R reminded me I still had the clicker to open the door. Good.
  The clicker didn't work. (Apparently they don't when the key is in the ignition. Who knew?) Bad.
  The car guy said, "We'll just use a slim jim.'' Good.
  Your car is the easiest one in the world to break into. Bad.

Reflecting on the whole experience, it seems like samsara in microcosm - wave after wave coming at me. Sometimes I'm joyfully surfing the wave, sometimes I'm barely managing to stay on the board, then a wave knocks me off and I'm getting pummeled by the waves, my mouth full of saltwater. Continually. Day after day. Life after life.
(How does that song go? "Sometimes you're the windowshield; sometimes you're the bug.")

At one point it occurred to me that thinking something is bad seems like a subtle form of anger. It's not acceptance and implies it shouldn't be happening.

"It is what it is" has become a common phrase - my Stepmom even has it as a sign hanging in their house. There's acceptance if you really believe that.

We also sometimes say "it's all good." It's not easy to actually mean it, though - not when it's about something that has happened to us.
I am working on developing a more flexible mind, one that can gracefully surf these waves. I would like to be able to learn from everything that happens, and then I wouldn't be so caught up with whether they seem good or bad. That measurement is usually based on the 8 worldly concerns, particularly comfort.
Now when unusual things happen, I'm more likely to see them as situations manifested by my Spiritual Guide for my training. (They seem so strange, they can't be ordinary, which also reminds me of emptiness.) If I could see everything in that way, it would truly all be good.