Broken Mirrors and Shit
Today is Friday the 13th. Oooh, I know. Spooky. Or, maybe just asinine.
At any rate, this city presents us with enough obstacles as it is, so for the superstitious, definitely pay attention to any scaffoldings, as I’ve noticed many have ladders leading to them or on them, or whatever. So, don’t walk under them, and try to pick up as many pennies on heads as you can. Also, avoid cats at all costs. I’ve locked my own in a closet with some leftover sushi and a cup of sand. He’ll be fine.
Now, since today’s supposed to be all screwy and backwards, I suppose I can expect the pizza-place staff downstairs to NOT be drunk when I get my slice for dinner tonight, I will find a Jefferson on the sidewalk with which to purchase a Jumbo Macha Green Tea Blast with protein and fiber boosts, I will be able to fight the urge to throw on the beanie and hoodie I have been wearing for the past month and a half straight, and dozens of employers will contact me and want to hire me, because I’m so talented and skilled. At everything. Already offering me raises, they’ll be.
But, uh, so far, it’s been much of the same — me plucking away on my Vaio to the symphony of street noise pouring inside through my poorly sealed windows.
Here’s hoping for a little something out of the ordinary!