Big Money, No Whammies

Not only was yesterday excellent for the obvious reasons, I also found a quarter on the ground and got to play with a wienerdog at work.  I have a soft spot for old ridiculous-looking dogs, and Tinkerbell fits the bill (yeah, the name stinks of Paris Hilton — but this Tink belongs to a nun).

My new theory is this: the universe shall provide.  Like, I just say “I need a job” and eventually Angi finds me one.  I need an apartment — Sabrina to the rescue.  I gripe about my lack of couch and suddenly a friend’s boyfriend’s parents are aching to give me one.  How am I gonna move it?  With my co-worker’s mom’s mini-van, of course!  Recent events suggest the universe might even be taking me seriously on the whole “world peace” thing.  Not sure why it’s happening, but let’s keep this train rolling; baby needs a new pair of shoes.

(Winter boots, size 8ish, preferably brown or black.  Thanks.)

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