November 28, 2010
Originally published September 23, 2002
I believe that I am over that horrible funk that possessed me last week. I had a wonderful weekend with my son, and I didn't go into the usual Sunday Evening Spiral that I usually experience when he leaves. After he was gone, I smiled a lot, remembering the fun we had. I slept well last night and felt sharp and energetic at work today, except for a sore right arm from throwing too many unaccustomed long passes with a regulation football.
I wrote a humorous blog for the recuperating SULI and she was nice enough to post it today and send me a very flattering email. Thank you, darlin'!
I also worked up the nerve to write a sycophantic email to MOMMABEAR to alert that most interesting person to my presence in blogdom. I didn't get shot, either, although I DID learn about a certain love for "banging" with large caliber weapons in the nice email I received in reply. A bullet-shootin,' gun-totin' person may scare fainter hearts than mine, but I believe that an appreciation for firearms is a GOOD THING in anybody. Thank you, too, MommaB.
When I shoot beer cans with my 9mm or .45 pistols, I don't just shoot the can, I attempt to hit the top bubble on the "B" in Budweiser. I also drive 10-penny nails with a .22 rifle. My aging eyes require a scope for the latter (can't focus the goddam front and rear sights anymore without help), but I still do fairly well.
All in all, I had one of the best weekends I've had in a long time. I feel good again. I may even go to my son's soccer game tomorrow evening.
But, contrary to DJ's opinion, it won't be to reconcile with my ex-wife. I'm going to watch my son play ball. There's way too much crap between me and the ex for me to forgive or forget what she did to me. The truth is... I wish I could.
But I can't.
All content © Rob Smith