In times of desperation, I tend to make sense out of things that are coincidental or random. It's like finding miracles in potato chips, I only really see the Virgin of Guadalupe in a chip if I'm looking for a miracle. Otherwise, I'd just eat the chip.

I went to coffee with a friend of mine yesterday, T. We both agreed that I needed to get out of the house.  We went to one of the charming little cafes in Los Feliz and staked out a big table so that we could spread out our books and computers and write without any interuption. T bought me a cup of coffee and herself a turkey club sandwich. In between bites, T spotted a friend of hers walking into the cafe. It was Natasha Bedingfield.

I wouldn't say I'm a big fan of Natasha's, but I can see her appeal. She's like the embodiment of her song, Pocket Full of Sunshine. She's sweet, has a nice smile, sings well, and a million times the artist that Ke$ha will ever be (seriously, girl, check yourself into rehab).

So Natasha and T are shooting the breeze, and T is telling Natasha about all of the small projects she's working on to build up her reel. And Natasha says, "That's what it's all about, right? Keep throwing shit at the fan until something sticks."

Now... I know she and I were both aware that she mispoke. She had switched up two common sayings: "Keep Throwing Shit At The Wall Till Something Sticks," and "When the Shit Hits The Fan." But she was on her way to her table where her coffee was getting cold, so she didn't correct herself. So I was left with an image of one throwing shit at a fan to see if it'll stick. But that's impossible. The shit will just fly back at you.

So this morning... I discovered my car had been towed because I was blocking a driveway. This driveway was so tiny that when I parked in front of it last night, I didn't even realize there was a driveway there to begin with. I'm not making excuses for myself, I'm just saying that I wouldn't knowingly park in front of a driveway just to be an asshole. Plus. I'm broke. I'm broke broke broke broke broke. Getting the thing out of the impound just set me back in paying my bills another week. I was actually on my way to a job interview when I discovered my car missing and a driveway where my car was supposed to be. So that's double the income I've lost multiplied by me feeling like a giant idiot.

I feel like I've taken that switched up metaphor and applied it to my life. I'm throwing shit at a fan and it keeps flying back at me. Hopefully, I'll get it right next time and that fan will turn into a wall and something will finally, finally stick.