NOTHING like some shameless self-pity to overcome writer’s block.

My job here in Sevilla seems to have evaporated. All at once, a lightening flash! A clash of thunder! And a vague email ended my tutoring gig I’ve been slaving away at for the past five months.

The good news is that Spain’s economy is booming and I’ll just walk outside and raise my hand to get some work…just like hailing a taxi.

I was comforted today by hearing a story of an American who just went home because she couldn’t find work. Well apparently she isn’t trying hard enough, or maybe she’s ugly.

When you pass out resumés here it is mandatory to attach a recent photo of yourself. Discrimination? Pish-posh! I was recently dazzled by an article ( ) talking about how beautiful people are smart.

The chain of events is: intelligent men get better jobs then, since they are successful, they marry prettier women to produce hot, genius babies; and the cycle continues endlessly.

It’s called survival of the fittest.

Spain is just more privy to this natural process.

I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be the intelligent or the beautiful end in the equation, but it will come to me soon.

And if I can’t figure it out, then by process of elimination, I’m the pretty one.

It’s math.

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