Well, I'm not going to get into the details, but today has been the day of uberRejection in the realm of jobs. Near tears, man, near tears.

What can I say but Fuck You Heartily, and also that I hope one day to live up to any particular intellect, maybe mine, commercially and maybe artistically too? But not to go into details, as promised before, today I folded laundry at the spot where they actually like me and then got, well, dishearteningly certainly and snottyBitchily somewhat, news about or from four different places.

And just so you Anti-Academics who have encouraged me away from The College don't gloat too much: two were from artist-sorts, and 1 of these 2 were among the most brutal of snubbings I've received (maybe next to the Fishermen who say "Oh Honey, oh Honey, oh Honey oh, But this is the Toughest of Tough Roughings - too much for any Independent Ho / Ahem... that is, this tisn't a job for such a Daintily Buffed, Painted or Innocent Tuft, replete with her Highly Prideful but Furry Muff / Were you Smutty and Butch, perhaps some kind of Vicious Grit or at least replete with an Erotic Wit, we'd consider taking you on as our Class-A Bitch / But M'Lady a'Wander, one might suggest you consider the alternate path: turn Straight as an Arrow, so's to never again consider the Oceanic Harrow / [as quiet as Solitude,... Vice, or an old Fishing Man's Leukemic Marrow]."), but here's the artistic version:

"I'm so busy, I decided to do it myself after we talked about how you might help."

Plus stuff about teaching, blah blah blah, stuff about teaching.

Maybe I suck, I guess.

Or maybe I'm overreacting, selfish, lazy, and just want a stupid career without having to lick as much ass as most have to lick these days. Sigh.

Man. I'm depressed. Self-esteem and commercial qualifications, sure, but I'd rather just be a fisherman. Except my back is fucked up. So. Karma. Soon. According to my Mother. Or if not, I have people who love me. So there.