freakin secret handshakes

*@?#% gaaaaaaaaahhh I hate secret handshakes. I hate this cryptic language of job searching. 😉 well maybe ‘hate’ is too strong a word… bah, I deride your job-searching abilities! no job-searcher, you!

well anyway, besides not shaking people’s hands, I dropped off some job application forms and picked up some more today. Constance also told me that one of the teachers at the Garderie du Manège might be looking to rent out her basement. sounds interesting, and I wouldn’t mind seeing it. I haven’t gotten word back from the guy who owns the turtle apartment as to when the room will be painted, so I might as well keep looking while everything’s up in the air.

My life is like a game of 52 pick-up. No, scratch that. Not just a game. My life is like tens of thousands of games of 52 pick-up all in a row. Everything’s always up in the air, and I haven’t the faintest clue where anything is going.

Although I remember a few days back I was writing about God being the one who makes everything run smoothly, as opposed to me who makes plans without really being sure whether they’ll work or not. Man plans and Allah plans…

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