Monte Carlo Fallacy

That academic publisher in Germany who contacted me a few months back went through “restructuring” (i.e. bosses were fired and replaced) and my new contact emailed me a couple of weeks ago, asking for various bits of information in addition to my manuscript. I was like, “All right, fine, whatever.” I wrote a new bio and abstract and did the various other little steps request of me, only to get an irritating but unsurprising reply:

Thank you for submitting all the information as requested, but we are terribly sorry, your manuscript did not meet our requirements. Therefore this is to inform you that your book project will be deleted.

Well, no shit. You don’t say. I could have told you that months ago. In fact, I did tell you that months ago! That’s because you don’t publish music, and my manuscript is an orchestral score. But nooo, you insisted, only to reject me. “No, no, go ahead and send it. Oh wait, you know what? Sorry, we wasted your time.” Here’s a thought: why don’t you guys go ahead and “restructure” yourselves again, huh?

Ah, ze Germans.

Oh yeah, and the Francis Howell school district put me at the bottom of their processing priority list because I don’t have a teaching certificate and obviously am not serious about subbing. Every month they interview and orientate a new batch, so my wait is indefinite (and therefore probably eternal).

Another month has passed and life isn’t waiting for me, opting instead to thumb its nose at me as it passes my stalling car in the fast lane. Neener neener neener! I am not the only one feeling this way, though. Whenever I talk to the Blanch, we usually end up commiserating about how we feel left behind, squandering our twenties. For example, lately I have been acutely aware of the fact that the South KC Shotokan dojo has been chugging along without me. Heck, even Dean is making leaps and bounds, and he’s solo MMA! I read my sensei’s blog, and while he is discouraged about the low retention rate of noobs, I also know that the upper belts I loved to train with in KC are probably all past my level now. Not a good feeling. I feel left out, stationed here on the Outer Rim. Somewhere in St. Louis is Kristy Batson, my former Padawan from Truman State University… we should fight. Routinely. That would go a long way in redeeming this desolate city.

So yeah, I’m not getting any younger here, and I try not to think of the “lost wages” from eleven months of unemployment. I deserve a wild night with a rented limo, a case of Glenlivet, a Finnish dwarf, and season passes to the KC Symphony. With those “lost wages” I could have bought a new desktop with allllll the shiny new toys the Captain occasionally shows me in the wonderful world of sound fonts.

The best I can do is “gear up” for when the Day of the Bard finally arrives. Because I’m not the only one who feels like life is leaving him behind, and therefore I’m not really left behind.

Well, I have the house to myself this weekend. I also have a few days off of work. I was hoping to seize the opportunity to go back home and have a Star Wars marathon with Starbuck, but she’s busy this weekend. So it’s just me, here, alone, left out, left behind. That’s okay. I can use a couple days of isolation to do a little “restructuring” of my own…

Get your mind out of the gutter, pikey.