The Game of Life

  So here's what I want to know:  How is the hell is a person supposed to stay all positive and happy and cool as a cucumber when said person keeps getting the Whammy in life?  I'm waiting for some corny game show host to come out of the closet with his sepia tan, waxed hair and skinny microphone, pat me on the shoulder and say "Aw, so sorry, but thanks so much for playing!" You know what I say?  Screw you, Monty Hall of life, and all your booby prizes too. I hope you get lost behind Curtain #3.  Bastard.
  Obviously something triggered my little game-show-metaphor-filled rant; something always does.
Aside from just more BS with SP (who is becoming more hassle than he's worth to me at this point, but more on that  later), I have found myself back at Square 1-AGAIN-in the old search for work.  I interviewed (and WELL) for a position I was perfect for, and vice versa, and got the polite brush off via email this afternoon.  This is honestly just getting ridiculous, and at this point I'm starting to consider options that may or may not border on the illegal.  It's tough already trying to find hours I can work outside of school.  Something has to give before I end up back in a blue outfit. (funny sidenote: my school scrubs bear a striking resemblance to the county wardrobe, right down to the color. Anyway.) So hey, break? Yeah, you can come anytime...I'm just standing here, wide open and waiting...

 So on to the other handful of sand in my underwear: SP. You know, the one that obviously has major plumbing issues because of how randomly hot and cold he runs?  Yeah, him. He's a walking freakin' Katy Perry song, and he's working my last nerve.  Three, count them, thrrrrrree (roll those Rrrrs) times I have been in his general area in the last 4 days, and given him ample notice of my presence.  How many times in those three visits have we seen each other?

      (If you guessed NONE, then Bob Barker has a NEW CAR for you behind Showcase #2.)

(Ok, that's a lie, but you guessed right, so Gold Star for you.)

To make that just a little more insulting, his excuse is always the same lame "I've been busy" and then heaps "..but I really would like to see you" on top.  I was understanding at first.  He had finals, and today was his last day.  'Cool, finish your project, take your final, let me know how it goes.  I will be in your area ALL DAY today up until 5:30, so pop in and say hi.  You really have no excuse not to, what with such a wide window of opportunity and me practically at your doorstep.  Stop in after class, we'll have lunch, you can tell me how your day went.'  This is me, being the cool, understanding, unclingy, nonbitchy, nonchalant me.  We had a date of sorts.  Guess who got blown off with more pathetic excuses?? Me, that's who!  Rod Roddy, tell the reader what they've won!

My annoyance is bleeding it's way into "disgusted" territory.  I've done everything I can, and I'm still running in place because the big dumb idiot can't figure himself, or anything, out. He's on bullshit, and my quota was filled during the six years with The Ex.  I'm over it.  I obviously gave him more credit than he deserved.  Buh bye.  It's time for a change. 

Somebody get Chuck Woolery and his huge watch on the phone.

(Cue "Love Connection" theme song...)