Gut Rumbles
 

January 28, 2008

It happens

Originally published June 16, 2003

I almost wish that I never read this post. It reminds me too much of what I go through twice every month.
[Ed. The blog he referenced, The Colorado Compound, no longer exists.]

"And I'll pretend that my life is normal, that eating an Almond Joy and some carrot sticks for dinner while working on my laptop are things I've always done. And I'll stay out of grocery stores for another two weeks. Grocery stores are for families, for women with people to cook for, care for, people who need them. Grocery stores depress the Hell out of me."

For almost 10 years, I cooked every meal that my family ate. That was my job and I looked forward to doing it. I grew a lot of my own food after I started serious gardening, and I learned to pickle, preserve and freeze my bumper crops. I learned to cook exotic things... Italian, Japanese and Mexican. I also made a lot of meat-and-potatoes, fish-and-rice and noodles-and-sauce dishes. I enjoyed doing that.

Now, I live on Hot Pockets and frozen dinners if I eat at all. Going to the grocery store depresses the shit out of me anymore. My family unit is ME now, and I don't feel a lot of obligation to cook for me, nor do I get much satisfaction out of it when I do. That's why I'll let the boys eat cereal and french fries for supper when they're here. Why not?

It's as good as the pizza I would order if I didn't make cereal and french fries.

Divorces are too easy to get for the shit that comes afterward. The fact that divorce can be accomplished preemptively and unilaterally is horribly wrong. I've held the shit-end of that stick and I didn't like it. I lost something irreplaceable and it all was ripped from me without mercy with no questions asked, and a big "fuck you" issued by the judge when I tried to bitch about it.

If that ain't a goddam stacked deck, I've never seen one in my life. And I've played LOTS of card games.

I miss my son. I miss having him around all the time, even when I sometimes told him to "Go away! I'm trying to watch the football game!" I miss having him come crying to me when he was hurt and telling him to "Rub some dirt on it! You're okay." I miss being his daddy all the time.

I am missing a lot and I know it. So does he.

I see it every two weeks.

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