Your life had a rhythm to it. Unusual as it may have been, separate from the mundane lives about you as it may have been, it was yours. You lived in, if not comfortable, at least stable and familiar equilibrium with your world. All that changed three days ago.

Sometimes, the smallest things have the largest impacts upon our lives. In each of your cases, it was a tiny slip of paper. You found it somewhere personal, somewhere private, somewhere secure. Somewhere nobody should have been able to get to, but somewhere you were absolutely guaranteed to find it today. The note said simply "Come to the Jackalope Room at The Smoking Pit in three days, at noon. There, you will discover your fate."

(Please describe who you are, and where the note was found.)