Let the dead rest in peace, dammit. Zombies suck.

I did not know typing my thoughts could make this happen.
(Silverlight has been crashing on me for the last 12,000 years
without fail, so this is definitely not from that. Sigh.)

You know when you think about contacting someone from your past because doing so would be very relevant to your very hopeful immediate future job, even though you haven't spoken in years and the other person likely hates you because of not understanding "friend trying to help you not screw up your life even worse" and you shouldn't have to explain that but then you do, and as soon as you finish typing your thoughts you see your computer screen turn green and pixellate, and it locks up so much that when it's restarted you get a notice that your overclocking failed so you have to go into the BIOS to fix things? Yeah, I hate it when that happens.

As I'm a pantheist (Zen Pantheist Skeptic more than anything else, even though I love me some Catholic liturgy), I think I'll take this as a subtle hint from the universe to keep not talking to him, even though this job I want would entail working closely with someone in a very similar way to how we'd worked together, and I want him to give me proper props like he said he'd do but I kinda want to make sure but now the making sure is not gonna happen because my computer is a bitch to begin with and I don't want to aggravate her further. Balls.

The universe tends to get my attention in a big way when I think about being a nice more-than-decent human being and shouldn't even bother, or when I want to do things I know I shouldn't do. I'm generally way too nice to people to begin with (like Bjork, I err on the side of generosity), but sometimes I get forced to pay attention to what I'm thinking about (or trying to not think about), and that's always interesting. 

The last time anything noticeable like this happened was about a year and a half ago, when I knew hubby and I should've just stayed at home in Dallas one weekend. However, there were exciting things going on, so I pushed myself to attend said exciting things even though I knew better and even with knowing I'd be extremely worn down afterward from having pushed myself in similar ways then-recently, but some of these things interested hubby so of course I wanted him to go too, so yeah, hot messes happened. 

We had a very (literally) crappy weekend out of state while doing a few college homecoming things and museuming as usual when in the area. It was nice to see some of my classmates after 15 years, and it was awesome seeing a kickass production of "Antigone" there, but it was not so nice to be surprised by a wrong way driver heading straight for us on a back road highway. (Yay for being able to get my swerve on while thinking about how incredibly awful I felt.) We should've stayed in our hotel room the first night instead of hitting the big shindig done by the school of music, since hubby's gut was agitated and mine was getting that way, but nooooo, I had to insist on going and had to get Imodium so all would be fairly well. I now know that this was wrong. He felt better the next day, when I missed out on museuming thanks to being in the bathroom for like an hour and a half in literal gut-wrenching agony. 

Naturally it occurred to me then that these things could've been avoided had we just stayed home (especially as the driving scare happened about 20 minutes before getting to said museum). There wasn't anything life-changing going on that we would've missed out on, aside from my really getting what the chorus of a Greek play should ideally be like, and aside from seeing a "Clerks" reference in context in real life, but even those things don't compare to the crap that happened.

The first thought that came to mind when seeing this:
"I'm not even supposed to be here today!!"
Well played, universe. Well played.

Of course, we could've just felt bad from food poisoning, but my gut would've exploded within 4-12 hours as usual instead of waiting 40 hours, so I kinda think not. Still, I continue to not buy chicken from Target, just in case we did have bad chicken the night before we left, even though I know this all was really a gentle prod from the universe to get me to take even better care of myself. Then again, it could be both. It really doesn't matter. None of this matters, except that I really hate when the universe course-corrects me in a big obvious-to-me way.

Okay, I'm really going to the arboretum soon. Today. Because I've been wanting to but changed my mind about it on Monday and yesterday. And because I don't want the universe to kick me anymore for not getting out to enjoy it like I should. (And I apologize if my reposting this a zillion times right now screws up your feed but the text is all fubar and it is driving me nuts, and yes, I know how that all sounds after what I just said. Balls.)