I've kept a tab open on my browser all week...
I'll scoff superiorly at the superstitious and religious alike, meanwhile I can find comfort in well arranged pixels. Such daftness.
As it turns out the hollowness of this hypnotic source of solace was exposed as the scam it is when John called first thing to say the job belonged to someone else.
Everything was not, after all, alright.
I'd beaten Fraser and Rupert and Gary and one other whose name escapes me... but not, it seems, the next day's solitary candidate. I'd come second... and as such was sentenced to wait all week for the bad news... just in case superman turned it down.
The tab remains open, top left, as I fumble to give its promise meaning in a new context.
Fantasies of the financial and professional must be forgotten, reality faced, new hope - a more humble future - salvaged from the selfconciousness of failure and its ugly truths.
I sound miserable because I am.
But it will pass.