misty, water-clored memories

There was a time not so long ago, still within the vague reach of my spotty and age-addled memory, when I used to have a life. I went out all the time, worked on losing my hearing at what the kids call the “rock shows”, hitting up the bars, hanging out with the cool kids, and frequenting low-quality brothels (wait, what?).

Now though, my lady keeps me ridiculously busy, and I now understand the compulsion to cheat (no, she doesn’t read this). This may be why I’m not yet married, because there’s something about spending every waking moment with something that starts to make me feel desperate and smothered. Sometimes I wonder if I’m alone in this feeling…but then I just Google US divorce rates and regain some semblance of calm and balance.

Nevertheless, though, I still feel trapped. What do I do? Find someone else to occupy my time? Push her away and grow distant? Talk (*shudder*) to her about it?

I can’t…I won’t do any of those things. I guess I’ll stick it out and hope for the best.

I love you, “Work”, even though you drive me crazy sometimes. And don’t take it personally if I take off from you for a couple of weeks and just get the fuck away from you for a little while. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, you know.

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