Yeah, that’s right. I said it.

This has been one spectacularly shitty spring semester for just about everyone. Let’s recap, shall we?

• In January, Ray got laid off from his job, at which he’d been working 12 years.
• The dog developed epilepsy.
• In March, just hours before I was getting on a plane to fly to Cairo, the hot water heater sprung a leak. I discovered this at 6 am when I went downstairs and started sloshing through two inches of water in the pantry (for the record: I had to leave for the airport at 10:30. This also necessitated driving up to my parents’ house so that I could take a shower). The water also managed to seep under the hardwood flooring that we just put down less than a year ago. Labor alone on the job to get it fixed will be $1,200–and we’re afraid to even ask about filing a homeowner’s claim because it’s not a buyer’s market right now. People are getting dropped from their insurance after a single claim. Kinda defeats the purpose, don’t you think?
• James died.

And it’s not just me:

• Last week, my friend Tarek, who provided a sympathetic ear after James died, told me that his best friend dropped dead of a heart attack. I don’t think the guy was older than 40.
• Brian has cancer.
• Oil spill in the Gulf; Greece is tanking; car bomb in New York City … you know the drill.
• Sarah Palin still has the power of speech.

I mean, really. Are the stars just totally out of alignment?

So, yeah, I’m saying it: fuck spring.  Whatever astrological bullshit is going on that’s making the world go crazy needs to get its ass out of retrograde.  And soon.

So there.