So here's my tale of woe: I went to work on Tuesday, still a little tired from the red-eye flight home from CA and three-hour time change, and by noon time found myself among the unemployed, much to my surprise. I left work in a daze, and no sooner did I get a little ways down the road than my muffler dropped and started to drag along the pavement. There was that sound. Metal against street, grating, loud, and I knew what it was even before I pulled off to confirm. It was like the gods were sitting up there watching me and one asks the other, 'Is that enough?' And the other one says, grinning, 'Not quite...' I swear I could hear them snickering.
When I told my sister about what had happened I couldn't help but laugh when I got to the part about the muffler. I mean, c'mon! Really? Really?! I couldn't have written it better myself!
Anyway, that was my Tuesday, but before you say omg I'm so sorry
let me say quickly that I did not write this for anyone's pity (not that
I don't deserve it!); I'm writing about it because A) this is what writers do; we document everything, no matter how crappy; it's all grist for the mill, right? Right. And B) I'm hoping for some good advice on how to get through this or at the very least, some happy, positive, you-go-girl thoughts, like, I'll
bet an agent is going to snap you up any minute, or, wow, just think
how much writing you can get done, or even, you are going to absolutely
LOVE your next job!
Meanwhile, I'm wondering if that muffler can possibly get welded back on...