It's what, 11:30 ish? Go ahead, check your watch. 11:30? Whatever, I'm sure it is somewhere.
I think it's 11:31 right now. Time glides until it realizes it doesn't have wings. Silly time. It's never going to catch the roadrunner of hope that way! Speaking of birds of prey, I saw MyUnwife today.
What? The roadrunner is a bird of prey! It's a bird, and it's made of something somebody calls prey. You doubt me, ask a predator.
"Mmm, tasty prey-bird, Bob."
"Thanks, Frank, I've been saving it for the holiday…"
Yeah, it just seems like Christmas was just here. Now it's Easter. That's why MyUnwife and I met this morning. Well, not really because of Easter. And no--lets turn the clock back a bit--I don't think she's a bird of prey. I was just being arty. Just think of it as a Garfunkel hanging on the wall of my blog. Could you move it to the right a bit?
We're here to see the notary. Flip us over we're almost done. Actually I think this was the last time we need to meet on the divorce stuff. She'll scamper down with the latest packet and then it flows through the county's Wonka nut chute to return a divorce bar of nougaty goodness. Or at least as close as we'll get.
I'm supposed to get this candy surprise just in time for my birthday. In government years, that's ahead of schedule. In irony years it's dead on. MyUnwife submitted the divorce on January 18th, and it'll be wrapped and bowed by June 12th. Get your presents ready; I already know what MyUnwife is getting me.
It seems like just yesterday we stood in Vegas failing to light the freakin' unity candle. Foreshadows take longer to see than hindsights.
Foresight: That's my new promise, but today just was like old times. Not in a clock hands swimming back to the "Gee we belong together" days. It was more of the atomic precision of 2 syncing cogs chinking under a revolution thing. We were moving on, but we were doing it together.
I know I'm repeating myself, but we work well together. We may have been a sack of rabid chaos the rest of the time, but when something needed to be done, we were quartz timing. Like clockwork. Time won't tell you differently.
We even joked about the divorce.
"I was hoping…"
"Get used to disappointment."
"Isn't that why we're here?"
We both laughed. It was funny. We were able to acknowledge that again. I think we're still a little tender. Time will heal that, but it was good to know our timing was still good.
So Easter is the last holiday before my birthday. The last tick before the alarm sounds. I'm moving forward. What does it mean?
It's 11:59. A new day begins any minute now. I may not be at my most coherent, but I will be ready.
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