supplicium post mortem

Is the title enough warning? Let’s hope so, kids.

So, in case it needs clarification, I am feeling glumpy, alone, and hard-done-by. Forget the bullying To-Do list; everyone has those, and I have always had them. They are nothing new.

What gives the evening a particularly empty quality is doing the Costco run by myself. No one should have to do the Costco run solo. Pushing all the stuff in the big, heavy cart to the car; packing it all into the car, the 50 pound bags of dog-food, etc; driving home in the dark through uncongested streets, radio off, no light, no noise, no traffic to distract from the emptiness; knowing there is no one at home to give you a hug, no boy to help unload the car; at home, having the dogs sit there and watch placidly while you hump all the crap into the house, unpack the dog-food into the dog-food cupboard, collapse all the containers, inch up and down the steep, teetery basement stairs carrying said 50-pound dog-food bags, paper towels, dog biscuit boxes, etc; then, flushing the boiler coil, wondering yet again why the water is so rusty every week, splashing scalding water on yourself and sludge on your shoes; not understanding things like the boiler, not really, despite efforts to do so; clomping upstairs to be woofed at by dogs who want their dinners; and still, at the end of the day, having no one on the other side of the bed to exhale and wrap himself around you and snore in your ear all night long. These are the kinds of things that suck.

OK, self-pity over. Normal service resuming shortly…

Update: OMG, my sister just emailed me a link to a site called Fuck You, Penguin. It is so fucking funny that it has instantaneously catapulted me out of my self-pity. Way to go, Penguins!