July 31: Last Day

It is the last day of July.  For some reason, I entered this month with the expectation that something big was going to happen for me.  I don't know why I had this expectation, but I did.

The "something big" could have been anything.  I applied for a job at the university.  I entered a few writing contests.  Take your pick.

Well, the university job fell through fairly early in the month, and, as July gives way to August, I think my chances of winning any of the writing contests are about as probably as E. L. James winning the Nobel Prize in Literature.  Not bloody likely.

Of course, this whole month of "something big" is a fabrication of my mind.  Somehow, I actually convinced myself that my life was going to change in a really positive way.  That's sort of like buying a lottery ticket and making myself believe I'm absolutely going to win.  It's delusional.  By association, I am, therefore, delusional, as well.

July is going out with a whimper instead of a roar.

And Saint Marty needs to be heavily medicated.

At least be better than July