It is my executive decision that men named Brandon bring me nothing but bad luck and heartache therefore they must be the fruits of the devil. So from this point forward, they are all dead to me.
Ever since I met Mr. "I promise to call everyday" (AKA Brandon), my week has been complete and total crap. I've been overloaded at work (which seems par for the course the week before you go on vacation), I've been short paid money that I needed to take with me on my trip, I've had the heartache of my boys losing in the first round (laugh if you must...but I felt like I was gonna ralph for at least two hours after the game), I've had to deal with boy drama, I have to go to the lady doctor tomorrow (ick), and now one of my roommates has given me ONE WEEKS NOTICE that she is moving out. ONE WEEK. Mind you, I AM GONE FOR THE NEXT WEEK.
How am I supposed to enjoy my week off when I know I have a crap ton of work waiting for me when I get back, not enough cash to spend while I'm there, AND that I need to start looking for a new roommate while I'm supposed to be recharging my batteries??
These turn of events lead me to one of two conclusions:
A) Brandon was a warlock and he has put a curse on me.
B) God is punishing me or he at the very least disapproves of my choices.
Since I'm inclined to believe that the second choice is completely unlikely (as much as it feels like the truth), I can only be left to assume that the first choice is the correct assessment of the situation.
So beware...keep your eyes open for those men named Brandon out there. I suggest arming yourself with a Saint Benedict medal, a bundle of Sage, or perhaps a gris gris bag. Those appear to be the most effective tools for warding off evil spirits.
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