Amazing how a phone-call from a temp-agency offering you $11.53 an hour (with the possibility of -- gasp! -- a permanent job at $24,000 per year) can get you out of your funk.
Good lord, my hopes have sunk low. Thank god I still had some pride left -- I said I would do the temp thing for a month or two, but could not accept a $24,000-a-year permanent salary. (I did NOT shriek: "I'm not 22! I have a Master's degree! I used to earn DOUBLE THAT, you sad-sack motherfuckers!") And I still have to INTERVIEW for this ridiculously-below-me thing later this week.
A fucking joke. But, yeah, being offered SOMETHING did get me out of my funk. Thanks also to the exciting Spurs/Heat Game 6 tonight. I was so energized, I finally packed away my winter sweaters. Oh, and earlier tried to get a salad from the organic place that opened last year just a block away: At the counter, they didn't understand the concept of my wanting a salad. (Despite their "garden" outside, with the show-offy sunflowers and playground for kids of the smug... turned out they were not raising any greens for salads. Except sometimes. Silly me. AKA: WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE DELIS AROUND THIS NEIGHBORHOOD? Is a simple salad, a sandwich, a slice of pizza too much to ask for without any sort of angst? Please.)