Yesterday, I published a teaser for today's explanation of Sunday's "kick in the teeth," or basically ending the day feeling like a wrung out dishrag. That's quite a lot of temporal references for one sentence. I'm not sure I even understand.

Some of you may have returned to read this article because you're the type of person who enjoys juicy gossip, and/or can't stand suspense, and/or turns to the last page of a murder mystery after reading the first few pages. I'm fascinated by this quality of human nature, especially since it's shared by so many.

As the youngest of three children, when it came to other people's business, I was strictly on a "need to know" basis. Unless it somehow involved me, no one ever told me anything worth knowing about, and if any information managed to slip out, it was generally stripped of its juicy embellishments.

That didn't change in grade school. Gradually, I learned how to navigate the world of secrets. Either coax it out of people or cultivate an air of indifference. Coaxing rarely ever succeeded, leaving projection of an air of indifference my first course of action. In the end, I either honestly didn't care or succeeded in making people think I didn't care, in which case, they would often spill the beans. Smart, right?

Do I see you projecting an air of indifference?

Okay, okay, I'll stop. For those of you who showed up for the salient details, here's what went down:

Tweeting mournfully, the mate of a wild bird that got stuck between our basement ceiling and kitchen wall continued to stake out the house. It commandeered the front yard, filling it with a rather creepy Alfred Hitchcock-esque feeling. Instantly, my garden high fizzled into thin air.



A pre-arranged trip to Chicago turned into a fiasco as housing and transportation possibilities fell through. Stuck scrambling for a car rental and hotel reservations, I still feel like nobody cares. Way to make a gal feel welcome.

Someone who I thought would always have my back abandoned me. 'Nuff said.