But it felt out of control. Carpenter ants. Hundreds of 'em. Attacking. Swarming. Under foot. In the bathtub. In the sink. Coming in under the sliding glass doors.
The Horror, The Horror, I thought. Exterminate the brutes.
So I made the call to the local Jedi master.
"Kill them," I said. "Kill them all. Every last one. Let none live to tell the others. Let none live to pass on its genes. Exterminate them down to the last ant and bleach the ground they inhabited so that none may pass this way again."
"No problem," said the representative. "We'll right out."
And now the uninvited guests are DEAD! They were routed in a fierce battle Thursday. They fought well, as honorable adversaries, but they eventually fleed the scene of battle. Every last one was put to the sword. Now they have gone to the netherworld.
And yes, I praised God today and thanked him, despite that earlier this morning I was ungrateful and critical.
Have a good night all.
Don't really have too much to say about the experience ... it didn't hurt like two months ago, but I know I'd like to continue to stay away because I'm getting some emotional distance from the relationship and that's a good thing. Not reading the Web site is a crucial part of letting go, or at least putting it down. While I've thought a lot ... way too much ... about J. in the past two months, I still feel I'm on the right path in getting past this. Distance and seeing her as she is now, and not through the lens of the relationship, are the keys.
So I'll commit to staying away for another two months, at the very least. By then, I hope to have pretty much forgotten ole what's-her-name.
UPDATE: Ugh. This morning I feel crappy. There's this sense that she was right in our last conversation, that we have nothing in common. And that makes me feel cold, alone and stupid. Only someone stupid spends five years with someone they don't have anything in common with. You know, the romantic side of me has been holding on, and saying, hey, we always had Paris. But we didn't really have that, either. [...]
UPDATE 2: [...] Have a better day than I am having.
UPDATE 3: Okay, having pushed through to this extreme of self-loathing, my sense of humor has returned. But I'll leave it all up for the time being. I can't swear I won't delete this entry, but I promise to leave the comments no matter what.
UPDATE 4: Thanks for the comment.
UPDATE 5, the next day: Jebus I was in a dark mood. I shouldn't get up so early. Thanks again for the suggestions. Much, much better today — just normal, but compared to where I was, whew!
UPDATE 6: Post redacted.
So I turn to her and say, "Okay, great. So you're on the market."
She says, "Well, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a writer," I tell her.
"I'm looking for a doctor," she said. "Or a lawyer. I'm either going to law school or getting a Ph.D. and I want someone I can talk to."
And she walks past me.
So I follow her a few steps and say, "Lawyer? Wait a second. I'm a Ph.D. dropout. I have a good job ... I'm sure I've got as much education ..."
She stops and looks at me and interrupts, "How old are you?"
"41," I said.
"That's too old," she said. "I'm 24. But you made a good effort. Thanks."
And that was that.
1. How to change my oil on my new Subaru. Yep, it has 3,000 miles on it already. It's pretty easy, once I figured out how to open the hood.
A friend talked me through it. "There's a bolt on the oil pan. Just hand screw it out. Oh, don't let the bolt drop into the waste-oil pan." Plop! Otherwise, there were no problems. Next time: I let the car sit for an hour so the oil isn't quite so hot.
2. How to field strip my new Glock. I was having trouble getting the gun apart, but this weekend I finally mastered the trick of it. That's good because I've shot about 500-800 rounds through it already and barrel needed a fresh cleaning. I didn't shoot as well as last week, except for one exact bulls-eye.
3. The meaning of the word 'captious.'How did I miss this great word all these years?
I hate life.
I recently wrote a post in which I tried to discuss the kinds of moments where you know that whichever way you choose, you're going to have to pay a price. Perhaps I didn't pull off — I was just trying to capture a moment. Simple as that. It was similar to posts I've tried to do 50 others times on this blog in the past two years. And I got a comment, "It's important to let go." Well,yes. Thanks. I'll take that under advisement.
I've deleted the post in question, mostly out of pique.
That's all. No hard feelings. Have a nice day.