I leapt out of bed today, determined to climb out of the Pit o’ Pity from which I posted the last entry. (And thanks to all y’all for your positive strokes, btw.) I sat down at my computer, filled with the power of positive thinking, and opened my email to find…

Dramatic pause.

And for far too long.

…an email from the Business Manager of the radio station I just sent my resume to yesterday for an opening they have for a Traffic Manager using the software I’ve trained people on for the last three years. And he said…

Oh look.

In my mind, at least.

… “Sorry, we’ve already filled the position, the new guy starts Monday. But we’ll keep your resume on file.”

So clearly David is right: the Universe, Fate, whatever it calls itself — it doesn’t like to be called a motherfucker. And I’m probably doomed for the next year.

So much for positivity.

So I went over to my mom’s house, where I installed a new pull-out spray wand faucet on her kitchen sink and put a peephole 4 feet off the ground in her front door so she can see who’s knocking without having to climb up on a chair to use the original normal-sized-human peephole.

Because when you’re down in the dumps, the best thing to do is to get out of yourself and do something for someone else. Because at least then you’ll have accomplished something.

For someone else, at least.

So my mom’s condo has been improved and has thus gained incredible value on the real estate market and my mom is happy. So I’ve got that going for me.

And Fate… Fate can kiss my hairy white ass.