"We were perfect when we started I've been wondering where we've gone…"-Counting Crows

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. That's what I've heard anyway; every time I make two points I gerrymander thought print patterns to rival little Family Circus Billy's spotty foot paths. I'm so busy capitalizing on talk time, I've never seen the shortest distance. That's not really accurate. I don't do it for the sake of basking in everyone's attention; that's just a happy byproduct. Really I'm a perfectionist, and so as I'm talking, my mind is busy clogging all conversational leaks. Because if I'm making a point, I want you to believe me. It's like math class: I'm showing you my work, no matter how convoluted.

"Mr. Blogwriter, your answer is wrong."

"What do you mean? I showed my work."

"Yes, I can see that. But 3.14 is incorrect."

"How? I showed my work."

"Well, the problem wanted combined weight...Bob has 1 bushel of apples, 1 sack of flour, and 4 sticks of cinnamon…you show work, but I'm not sure why Bob traded 7 bushels of corn for a convection oven…and wait. 3.14, did you round your number?"

"Of course, it's pie, pie is always round."

"yes, pi. It's still wrong. Mind if I keep the recipe though?"

"go ahead."

"Thanks."

"As the crow flies." Flying is out of the question. My life has slowed to a crawl, and I'm chained in place. So, my shackled mind darts about looking for mischief. I'm an emu surrounded by gloating crows. If my mind catches one, I'll eat a little crow baked in my pie.

"mmm tastes like hamster."

You know what else tastes like hamster? Chicken. I had a chicken sandwich the other day. It was tasty. I've noticed that since there isn't somebody across the table to talk to, I do a lot of thinking. At first,, that wasn't such a good idea. My mind traveled dark bogs of guilt and blame, the lantern of pride and arrogance drew me into the fog, then died out before I could see my way through. I know. Pretty deep huh? So was the bog. I look over blog posts from before September, and they're kinda dark. I received an email from a fellow writer who described them as, "...humorous (excluding the pain or because of the pain?.)" Gee thanks. I'm glad my beak and talon wounds can be your joke fodder.

Still yeah. That's what it was, and still is, to a point. I no longer feel the days of loneliness. Oh, I still get lonely, but it's sort of like a Florida thunderstorm: It rains on me for about an hour, then goes away; I'm laughing hysterically by mid afternoon. I'm either getting better or bi-polar. I don't think it makes much difference from my perspective. You guys might want to hide all sharp instruments though.

You'll be glad to hear that this month has been the first Normal month this year. I mean not like a normal day here and there, I mean the month itself: normal. It feels good to be me again, it's been a while.

Sunday, I went to church, and it was like things cleared before me. I don't know how to explain it, but I saw things. Not fruity planes, or purple cows in tapestry, things about me, MyUnwife, and hamster flavored crows. After service, I stayed after and prayed thanks. I also prayed for MyUnwife. Not my ancestral prayer for smiting. Yeah, we have one of those. It goes:

Would you smite her with a fish?

Would you smite her with a dish?

Can you trample her with a ram?

Can she choke on black eggs and Spam?

It goes on for several verses, but I think you get the idea. The important thing is, I didn't say that. I just prayed that things would be good for her, wherever life leads. Whether by crow or by 40 year exodus. So long as that 40 year thing isn't our divorce.

I've been angry at her for such a long time. It felt good to let it go. I know I'm not done. There are still corners of anger, but most of what I feel towards her lately is just sad resignation. I find that that doesn't mean I can't be bitter. I still can, but that's not my heart anymore. I'm interested in what's next again.

It's been a tough time, but God pulled me through. That's why I prayed. I feel like this would be a great time for some testimonial, but the truth is, I don't understand it. I can make up some pie in the sky story, but it'll still taste like air if you don't experience it for yourself. I was troubled, now I'm at peace. There it is, as the crow flies.