Exhaling, Or Always A Bridesmaid

I've been metaphorically holding my breath for a couple of weeks now, waiting for some news, and it's made it difficult for me to feel much like writing. The news came today; not what I was hoping for, but at least it's movement. I'll try not to dwell in my little self-pity party for long, but let me just say that today I have a huge amount of empathy for anyone who has ever heard the words "if for any reason, Miss blahdy-blah is not able to fulfill her duties..."

Because while you'd like to think that there's some comfort to be taken in knowing you were almost good enough, there's no getting around the fact that being first runner up SUCKS no matter how "fabulous" you might be.

I've disabled comments on this post because I just need to vent and stomp my virtual foot for a bit without hearing about how one door closes and another opens. I don't want another door. Can't I just pick my own goddamn door and have it work out one time?