the many signs that illustrate the fact that you have severely pissed off the cosmos.

It all starts out innocently enough. You are super emo about your career situation and right at that very moment you come across a job posting that you are seriously excited about. So you apply. Then you get an interview and it seems to go pretty well. 10 minutes after you get back to your office and are super stoked about the way things are going, your mom calls you at work to tell you that your grandpa died the night before and they didn't tell you right away because they didn't want to mess up your interview. You can't help but think that this surely has to be a sign of some sort, and that this job situation is not likely to turn out in your favour. But, you are trying to cheer yourself up about the supremely shitty news you just received, so you choose to be overly optimistic to compensate.

So then you work really hard on a project and when all is said and done, you are honestly pretty proud of your work. Half an hour after you hand it in and are feeling all proud and excited, your mom calls you again to give you the details about the funeral. Again, you think to yourself, "This can't be a good sign..." but you ignore it and carry on.

Then Friday comes and you are so happy that the weekend is almost here. All you have to do is get through the hugely stressful pile of work you have on your desk, and all will be good. By some crazy coincidence, you get a phone call telling you that your HERO is downstairs. (In my case, that is David Suzuki!) So you FREAK OUT and run downstairs to see him, only to become paralysed by nerves and standing at the top of the stairs having a mild panic attack. You have totally missed your chance to actually meet him, but you shrug it off and go back upstairs. About 15 mins later you are politely and diplomatically informed that you didn't get that job that you wanted so badly. You try to act cool and try not to be too bummed out about it, but you still kind of are. You finish the main portion of your work, and then realize that you still have a huge pile of work to do. It is the kind of work that makes you feel like a caged animal, and suddenly you feel like if one more minor thing goes wrong today you are seriously going to lose it. Just flat out start crying in the middle of the office. But you don't. You stay at work an extra hour to get this shit done ON A FRIDAY NIGHT.

So you go shopping in the hopes that you can find something pretty to make you feel better, but you find nothing. All you really want to do at this point is have a friggin' beer and relax because this shit is beyond your control. But you don't. When you finally get home, you notice that there is a magazine left open on the coffee table. The article on the page is called "Why Mr. Right Can't Find You." I am not making this shit up.

So basically, I'm super grumptacular and have about a million reasons to be that way. Wah.

In other news, this blog is now apparently being written by a 13 year old girl who is totally into emo music. Good times all around.

I'm pretty sure February is going to be effing MINT after all this crap.