After a long absence, have returned to somewhat normal operations in the fine state of . . . ahem . . . New Jersey. Had to address some old business before tackling the new. Over the past few years, experience has suggested it’s better that true friends hear important news directly, rather than via the blog. So, I took the past few weeks to get my “offline” friends up to speed with some life-changing events before breaking the news online.
First the new business: The Poet and her cats Abra and Mooshy moved in to the apartment. Obviously this is huge shift in my lifestyle. Back in September I had adjusted to the slutting it up phase of my life. Life was good; life was simple; life was comfortable; randomness worked for me. I was the proverbial kid in a candy store. Except the clerk wore a thong and never existed in the daylight.
Then I met The Poet and all that easy living went out the window. Damn frame hits me every time.
Needless to say, I fought this transition in various ways in silence, but in the end all the resistance was just internal turmoil, rather than a reflection on the situation itself. What matters is that I’m ready again for a real relationship and it’s working.
She’s amazing. Whatever I hung myself on in other situations before, somehow stopped being an issue. Weeeeeeeee.
Anyway, the past few weekends have been a lot of hauling boxes and choking on dust particles unleashed from upending an apartment filled with books and cat dander. Thus, I’ve been too tired for most activities more taxing than survival. Once again, Viktor Frankl proved Sigmund Freud wrong. There are more important things than sex.
Wow. Did I just say that? Brand me with a poker.