It is no secret that the gods (or the Universe, if you prefer) ... well, they get kindof an advance notice on what's going on. Some more than others.
And similarly, it is no secret that the success of any message, last week's, for instance, hinges on both timing and delivery.
So let's look at last week, shall we? On a day like today, when I'm about to launch out on another sure-to-be-perfectly-mundane trip to the grocery store, it seems important to kindof analyze what went down.
Here's the short version.
Universe said unto KJ "hang in there kiddo"
KJ reacted with dizzy euphoria and was like "high fives all around!"
meanwhile, back at the lab, KJ's test results were coming in.
The next day, the doctor calls and is like "yeah, we have a problem"
and KJ reacted with panic and angst laced with nuances of what can be largely described as "the fuckits".
Then KJ remembered the message.
Then KJ gave the universe the finger and said "argh. okay, dammit. I'll stop with the panic and crap. Happy now?"
And then the universe went back to regular broadcast programming.
Where does that leave us, gentle reader? well, back in the all-too-familiar crossroads where several paths stand before us. One, we'll call it "Option A" is perfectly "benign" shall we say. And after a particularly awkward extraction process, all shall be taken care of and we shall never speak of this again. "Option B" is... more complicated. "Option C" ... well that's a big fat steel-toed boot to the junk, that is.
None of this can't be survived, and not a single option before me stands to effectively alter my life path to too great a degree.
But I'm still here, on this path, waiting to find out which option I'm headed for and I've got this little silver note in my hand that says "hang in there" and a huge backpack of love and admiration from my family and friends (and minions) and suddenly I feel that as horrified and terrified as I am about this ordeal - I can do it. You know?
Whatever happens, this certainly isn't the worst of it and if it is the worst of it, well, by the gods we live in a magnificent day and age when these sorts of things can be managed with a minimal amount of barbarism.
So, gentle reader, and universe alike... do cross your fingers for me over the next few weeks. That which shall come to pass will do so and there's not a (gods-forsaken, damned) thing we can do about it. We can hope for luck though, and we can hope the norns still have a lot of weaving to do on this little life-thread, and that they're practical jokers to the end with epic senses of timing. And delivery.