The cold hard truth

So I just discovered today that I didn't make the cut.

That's right. Missed the first round draft pick, and maybe even the second. It's possible, and almost probable that I've been benched indefinitely.

What sport do I play? Oh, none. I didn't make the 'friends important enough to share my sorrows with' team.

No, really, I'm okay.

I truly understand that there were friends before me, and that there will be friends after me, and also that there were most likely friends that popped in right around the same time as me. But I tend to think that I stand out as genuine, memorable, and, well, unique, of course. Doesn't everybody, after all? Think I'm unique, that is?

Oh well, it's just another tragedy that my shoulder will stay dry throughout. It's probably for the best anyway. . . I'm running out of laundry soap.