Faring Well

Coming home now there is no scratchy voiced little savage in crazy outfits to ask me how my day was. I almost got used to having a domestic partner. We'd fallen into a rhythm like an old married couple.

Less calls to adventure now, as well. There's no one to talk me into going to some late night dance party. No one to remind me that these are the only days we're gonna get. Also no one around to make me feel infallible.

Trisha always puts things kindly, and flatters me in the extreme. She works with preschoolers, so she's good at making everything that comes out of her mouth sound like encouragement.

I could tell her the very worst things I've done. She would insist that the only problem with my life is that I'm not OK with doing those things, or I haven't found someone who's OK with being subjected to them.

That is enabling, but priceless.

I started missing her the minute I dropped her off at the train station.



As soon as I got to work today it was non-stop. I feel like I was constantly in meetings, like I sent about 100 emails and made about 1,000 educated guesses. I'm out of the slump officially, I don't think I'll have a calm day at work any time soon.

The other thing I'm considering is that if I didn't have my car? I could buy 10 new pairs of extra fresh sneakers every month.

10 pairs of sneakers. A month.

Or 5 pairs of sneakers and a leather jacket.

Or 2 pairs of sneakers, a leather jacket and 2 super expensive steak dinners that I don't have to get all misty eyed over.

Or or or.

Or after 3 months I could buy an old school and then patiently and carefully make it the coolest fucking ride anyone has ever seen.

Mind you: I love my jeep. It's darling and ultra fresh.

I'm just sayin.



It's smart to always be considering your options. Chances are you have way more than you think you do at any given moment.