Irony is mocking me.

I should probably explain that a bit better by summing up recent events. In seventy-two hours, I've managed to:

• quit my job;
• have my fortune (sorry, "fortune") told at Ani's birthday party;
• meet someone, although I can barely remember what he looks like;
• attend my first meditation class;
• get kicked out of my first meditation class; and
• be diagnosed with a disorder I've never heard of.

This afternoon I'm supposed to be going to a class for people with said disorder. Apparently we're sensitive to noise, which is interesting as someone who spent most of her uni degree drowning out the world via her iPod. I'm still debating whether or not to turn up.

Re: the job thing, I was hoping to break the news to my parents gently -- preferably by ringing them in several months' time to tell them I had a different work number -- but by the time I saw them on Saturday, they already knew about it. (Thank you, Siobhan. Remind me to poison your coffee.)

To cheer myself up about the money that's not in my bank account, I'm making a list of all the reasons why I'm happy not to be working for K#nobbe (take that, Google search!) & Sons any more, which will either by posted later or ceremoniously burnt.

Off to class. (Or not.) Wish me luck.

p.s. Siobhan is even scarier when dressed like a clown.
p.p.s. Fortune tellers are a crock.
p.p.p.s. Possibly so is meditation.