Thursday, Feb. 26, 2004 - 11:19 am
Um... I'm sorry.
This relationship just isn't working for me.
I'm at www.dailypreciousness.org now. So change that bookmark.
I had the dream of the 5th Buddha again last night. I woke with the taste of chocolate in my mouth. Blue morning light greeted me, along with the terrible news on the radio.
I am a threat. I am perilous. My very essence endangers traditional marriage. And I face the morning with a renewed sense of purpose: to destroy Western Civilization As We Know It.
Scampering out of the bed, I laugh at the unmade sheets: who has time, when I have to Plot the Downfall of Society? I shower. Shave. Primp and prepare. Now I have to grab my briefcase, rush out the door and head to work.
On the drive to the office, I consider the dream of the 5th Buddha. Why was there a lingering essence of chocolate in my mouth? Or was it peanut butter/chocolate? Hard to say. I remember eating ice cream in the dream. David and I sat in the living room, admiring the new prints he'd hung on the wall. He definitely has an eye for these things, I told him. And I like his sense of style. Like an old Roman serif font, with elegant, crisp lines.
For this and his many other talents, I enjoy his company. So it's obvious that I'd dream about enjoying ice cream with him on the sofa. And in the dream, the 5th Buddha told me something. Whispered it in my ear, with a knowing wink. "You will win this," he told me. And there, with him and David, on the sofa, I ate ice cream.
So driving to work this morning, I reflected on this, wondering if a document meant to protect me would be... could be... used against me. But don't worry -- he's a uniter, not a divider, right? Well, yeah, if you mean "unite together to persecute," then yes, I suppose he is a uniter.
*sigh*
I should close with a paraphrasing of some lutheran who never visited Lake Woebegone...
First they came for the certified clown therapists but I was not a certified clown therapist, so I did not IM my friends.
Then they came for the miniature golf enthusiasts and the bulimic sorority girls but I was not one of them, so I did not IM my friends.
Then they came for the buck-toothed monobrows but I was neither buck-toothed nor monobrow, so I did not speak out. And when they came for me, there was no one left to IM their friends for me because they were too busy having cocktails made from distilled yam juice.
