It tolls for thee

Things have not been going so well today. I was accused by a friend at breakfast of having Trump derangement syndrome this morning. "I can be reading along, loving the photos and stories, then wham, you have to go and get political." Like this:

Sorry Jim. I know that people don't want to be hit over the head with it, I try not to, but at times I feel like I have to scream.

I am very unhappy with what we have allowed our country to become.You read this blog, you're going to get some political opinions. Trump only knows how to play nasty, he is unfortunately going to get nasty back. Sow, reap.

Anyway shortly thereafter, the yolk was on me. I caught the edge of a rather large plate and accidentally slingshotted the entire contents of my eggs and fruit onto my lap. Guys at breakfast loved it.

And broke my last pair of readers getting out of the car.

And accidentally knocked a cup of coffee into my cupholder.

One of those days.

I try to not be too apocalyptic about such matters. I don't necessarily think there is a causal chain afoot to burn me in dante's hell #7 for eternity or anything like that. But just to make sure I may sacrifice a fattened lamb or two or failing that a labrador, like our new Republican messiah did in South Carolina the other day.

Can't be too careful.

I have been in a funk of late. Had a couple sales and some big favors keeping me afloat but that is not in any way sustainable. Need a little winning streak, a little help. But like it says right on the packaging, reports of past performance are not an indicator of future results. Just because I have been bailed out by chance, god or the furies a million times before does not mean that Vanna White is about to give me a vowel or a lifeline and save my miserable ass from poverty and or perdition.

One of the first things I learned back when I was doing my bachelors in Magick 101 back in Camelot is that you don't importune the sages. If you have already thrown the runes, split the yarrow stalks, laid out the celtic cross on the Rider Waite deck, considered the cracks in the tortoise's shell, pondered the distended bowels of the goat, read the tea leaves, consulted the oracle at Delphi, blind opened Gideon's favorite bible to the pithy quote of its choice and you still don't have the slightest idea about how you are going to extricate yourself from the mess, well welcome to my world. Might be best to hide under the bed and wait for further instruction.

Would Thelma and Louise myself at breakneck speed into Meteor Crater but I have always had this weird need to see how the novel turns out. Anyway can't let a little egg on my shirt ruin my day. After all the darkest storms occur right before hell really breaks loose.

Pray that I get some fresh simoleons in my bankroll soon and that I get back to being a rich, arrogant prick again. I'm much nicer that way.