when you leave work just after a sudden early summer rain, avoid street corners. you may find yourself within striking distance of an overzealous livery cab on the run to who-knows-where and a persistent pothole, both conspiring with the (hateful!) universe to make your face a precious target of mud.

when you fill your beloved fountain pen with a new favorite ink, screw that cap on tight on that bottle, for on the one day when you are recovering from a mud-spew (see above), you may find yourself taking same bottle from the shelf, and suddenly discovering the floor, the desk, and your feet stained with a lovely gray-blue color. and your expensive, $22.50 ink bottle — because you’re strange and love pens and ink — a third less than what it was just last night.

and when a lovely man smiles at you in appreciation for — i don’t know, maybe your hair, if he manages to look up beyond your clavicle, suck in your bristle and take it as a compliment. given the exceptional treatment you’ve had by the (hateful!) universe, that dubiously gentleman-like appreciation might just be the best damn thing to happen to you today.