A dastardly day

Oh my, am I ever out of sorts. Yesterday was a day for the dark side to shine, if indeed darkness can shine, and I am still unhappy about it. Received a terribly testy response to an inquiry to a gatekeeper of a comedy shop, a man who is reputed to be one of the "good ones," which, of course, led me to doubt my comic intentions/abilities and, while we're at it, my entire purpose for being (why stick to just comedy, when one's can call one's entire EXISTENCE into question?).

Then, to make matters worse, I realized that negative feedback had the exact same effect on Rory Gilmore on last night's repeats--my life is playing out like a WB drama, for heaven's sake! (That I also had a similar career-ending experience with a professor when I was an undergraduate wanna-be artist provides no comfort at all, none.)

To add to my dismay, I saw in the paper that one of the big winners of the weekend's soapbox derby is one of the kids who was being screamed at the loudest by his father--and he and his proud (if hoarse) papa got a big, "Ain't we grand?" photo in the paper. And no word of what happened to the girl in the pink cart.

Where is the justice in that?!

Then, I realized that I missed my favorite 12-step meeting (since I was too busy watching my life unfold on "The Gilmore Girls"), and that the PACE comedy open mic is this Thursday--tomorrow night! The problem? This means it has been a month--a month--since the last show, the show I missed because I had a job interview the next day.

And, of course, I haven't had a job interview since.

What is the matter with me?! Quite a lot, apparently.

This Chinese proverb, from Monday's Zen Calendar, offers a tad of solace:

"To be uncertain is to be uncomfortable, but to be certain is to be ridiculous."

Well, then--at least I'm not ridiculous. There's hope for me yet!