Karma Found That Bullseye On My Forehead...

It's never a dull moment around here.

First, I lose a friend. That's something I'll probably mourn this weekend when I realize I can't just call him and say "Hey, what's up?"

But then, the USPS black hole hath swallowed up my thesis. That's right- the packet that my professors sent to me with line edits that were supposed to guide me in cleaning up my submissions for my MFA never reached me, even though it was mailed out on September 12th.

At first I wanted to blame my landlord, because I don't have a private mailbox- all the mail goes into one box and when it comes he sorts it and places it on a small table downstairs. It sucks, yes, and it's illegal I'm told, yes, but I'm not one to rock the boat when it comes to this apartment. I'm too aware of the fact that if I get evicted I have nowhere to go and no money with which to get there.

Then I had to realize that in the time I've been living here I've never NOT gotten my mail. Sure it sucks that he can see everything I get in the mail and I had to cancel my subscription to Hot Oiled Beefcake Magazine, but I always get my mail. So that leaves the USPS as the culprit. And the school for its negligence- I mean seriously, how hard would it have been to make copies OR mail out the packet with a freakin' confirmation of receipt postcard, just in case? I'm just sayin'...

But the final nail in my funky mood coffin- I didn't get this job I was really hoping I'd get. They went with someone who had a bit more experience, so they say, and I'm just wondering how much longer before I can finally enjoy what I do for a living?? How much longer before I wake up and am actually looking forward to my job? Because right now just hearing the train conductor announce my stop makes my stomach turn.

For the past few days I've actually made it to bed at a decent hour (read: before midnight) and have been able to sleep through the night, foolishly thinking that my insomnia was licked. "But no, not so fast there, Missy," Karma said to me earlier today. "You still owe me..."

*smooches...praying for a reprieve*
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I avoided sleep for years,
up at night replaying evening news stories about
nearby jailbreaks, fat people
who ate fried chicken and woke up
dead. In sleep I am looking
for poems in the shape of open
V's of birds flying in formation,
or open arms saying, I forgive you, all.