What's Your Sign

(I write this not to solicit encouragement, but rather to show you how funny God is).

I've been a bit (read: ridiculously) stressed lately. Work stress. Performance stress. Life stress. Stress stress. And I'm doing my best to cope. You know, eat, pray, love. Blah, blah, blah. For the most part, I think I'm doing OK considering all I've got going on. Yay.

So, I get home tonight and thought to have a glass of vanilla soy milk. And because the majority of my dishes are holding my sink hostage, I use a mug rather than a glass for my nightcap. The mug I used was the only mug I had left, my Joke Horoscope Mug.

I pour my drink and sip it quietly, decompressing my whirlwind of a day in my giant brown armchair. And just as I was about to get terribly deep, I read my "joke" mug:

Libra
(September 23 - October 22)
You are the artistic type and have a difficult time dealing with reality. You spend all of your free time on the Internet as you have no real friends. Your capacity for self pity is outstanding. Chances for employment and monetary gains are non-existent. You will die a virgin.

You see, God does have a sense of humor. Hilarious. Maybe I should switch from vanilla soy milk, to vanilla vodka.

Poop

After three straight days of feeling like poop, and with all the strength I could muster, I went to perform in tonight's improv shows. On the way down, I rocked out to melancholy jams. Good, sad shit, like: Elephant (Damien Rice), Speed of the Sound of Loneliness (an Amos Lee cover), and Vagabond (Foy Vance). Clearly I was in the perfect mood to do some yuk-yuk make 'em ups.

So, I'm at the stop light, about to cross the street and head into the theater. I was standing there, looking out at the world with soulful, deep, and painful eyes. I was having a moment. Just then, as I was taking my self too seriously, a bird pooped on me.

It wasn't the gross, white poop you'd expect. It was beyond gross. It was the nearly-fatal-because-I-almost-ran-into-on-coming-traffic-because-it-was-so-horrific, bloody bird poop. Yep, bloody. Either this bird ate a ton of cherries and berries, or shortly after defecating on me it fell from the sky and died.

I ran across the street with the bloody poop/bird abortion on my arm - holding it out in front of me like it might jump from my arm to my mouth at any moment. I finally made it to the theater and ran inside to quickly wash my arm (gagging the whole time).


Oh life! You teach me so many lessons!