What's the Opposite of the Midas Touch?

Merde Touch?  I ask because everything I touch seems to turn to shit.

First it was my beloved Canon Powershot, which ceased to work properly when I tried to get a photo of Megan at her last meet.

And on Monday, after I'd finally caught up on my email, I got the kind of computer error message we all dread:

SMART FAILURE PREDICTED IN HARD DRIVE 1.

The message advised me to back up my data, which I would have done if (a) the computer ever booted up to a point where I could run a program on it to do so and (b) if I had not already toasted the portable external drive I'd been using for that purpose.

(Problem appears to be a connection, so husband is all "I can fix it" and since we are still in belt-tightening mode -- although you wouldn't know it after all I spent to go to BlogHer -- I let him try. It's been a couple of months now.)

So I spent yesterday morning with Joel at the Geek Squad, who put me at ease by showing me that my data appeared to be intact -- and that the cost of restoring it and replacing the hard disk wouldn't kill me.
So this should be all over, right?

That's what I thought, until I made breakfast this morning and tried to run my garbage disposal.

Nada.

It's broken, too.

Fortunately, my daughter informed me that it was ALREADY broken before I tried it. SO WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME BEFORE I TRIED TO USE IT?
I got back from BlogHer feeling tired and achy. By last night, I realized I might actually have a bit of a bug. Today, I feel like... well, merde.

I'm calling a plumber and going back to bed.