There is no Island. Only injustice.

You know what?

I’m a little grumpy today.  For a few reasons.

Firstly, it was hard to get out of bed, as it’s Friday.  But today is National Donut Day, and I knew my place of business would not disappoint.  So maybe that evens out.

Sometimes I find myself lollygagging around WordPress just as the magical Freshly Pressed Gods are sprinkling out their fairy dust for the day.  I read the first blog at the top of the page because it looks funny or heartwarming or delicious.  By the time I am finished leaving a witty or kind or delicious comment, I return to the FP page and see a few more new blogs have popped up.

For a moment – just the briefest of moments – I hold my breath.

Is it there?  Is one of them mine?  Have the gods smiled on me this day – O, this day of days?

I hear the quiet whooshing sound as air rich with shame, inadequacy, and carbon dioxide leaves my body. 

Today is not my day.

And then, something catches my eye.  Something familiar.

Haven’t I seen this one blog up here before?  Yes, I did.  Just a few months ago.

The lingering shame quickly morphs into a rabid beast of rage.  I think some of the sinfully delicious fat and sugar from the donut I just consumed is also fueling this rage, to be fair.

And that’s just it.  Is this fair?  I remember once reading a blog where the author had calculated the odds of getting Freshly Pressed.  Spoiler alert: they were low. (If I remember correctly, this was a blog that had actually just been Freshly Pressed.  Oh, the irony.)  I wonder what the odds are of getting Freshly Pressed twice?

I feel like that stout, bald dude in The Island.  You know, the one who was friends with my future husband’s (Ewan McGregor’s) character while they were at work.  This guy had figured out, with very fuzzy math, that the game was rigged

I feel a mixture of the above description with the sting of injustice that induces a 5-year-old style tantrum.  Only I don’t get butchered for my vital organs and I don’t get sent to my room without dinner.

So what do I do about this injustice?  I blog, of course.

And I eat more donuts.

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16 responses

  1. I go through bouts of obsession with FP’d. Check it fanatically, pound my head into the table, shake my fist into the air, etc. Next time it crops up, I’ll try to crush it with donuts.

  2. Guap is right. FP is fun, but it’s a bit of a pain. The spam is outrageous and some of the sincere comments are INSANE. like in my FP post, I mentioned in jest that I hope my baby has poor eyesight like me because babies who wear glasses are super cute, and some lunatic commented that only an abusive parent would want that and that she hopes CPS takes my child away from me. Riiiiight. But I know what you mean about wanting to get FPed. I really wanted it too and I was super honored to get it. You will be FPed eventually; your blog is too good not to be. Plus it has an actual angle which is something I think the WordPress gods look for.

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