Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…
I'm within a week from when rubber divorce stamp meets this Rob's road. I'm new at this, does the stamp go on my forehead or my forearm or maybe just my forefather?
"Hey Dad, did we get the divorce?"
"Yeah son, a guy came by and tattooed my chest this afternoon."
"Thanks Dad."
I don't know these things. Like I said, I'm new at this. On the one hand I'm sad because of all that I could have had. Other divorced people worry about wasted time. I didn't waste time with worry. I didn't waste time.
The only time I "wasted" was the time I spent getting a divorce. Before that, I was involved in the economy marriage. At least I thought that's where I was investing. It was my first marriage. Maybe I was doing that wrong too. I had my Dad tattooed for that as well. Was that necessary? It could explain why he's really eager to see me stay single.
"Maybe you just need to get to know yourself for a while, Rob."
That's Dad, always thinking about me. Me too. I'm always thinking about me too. I guess that’s why I also see the divorce as an opportunity. I didn't at first. At first it was only a Schleprock raincloud hovering over my day to day head. Each morning I'd wait for the lightning to strike my butt, each evening I'd obscure my moon. Now there's a little sun peeping through the cloud--sort like a fried egg hanging over me. I'm really worried about what that means.
One thing it means is that I'm moving on.
"How?" you might ask.
"I don't know. I'm 'moving on,'" I'd reply.
"But what does that really mean? 'Moving on?'" You'd press.
"uhm, it means that I was over there, and now I'm over here?" I'd continue, backpeddling.
"But what's the difference? You say you're moving on, Rob, like we're just supposed to accept it? How can we accept it, if we don't know what it means?" You'd counter.
"Look! Over there! Something shiny!" I'd distract.
"What? Where? Huh? Where did Rob go? Huh, I guess he moved on." You'd surmise.
I don't know how to define "moving on." It's like explaining the feeling you get when you gotta pee. "I gotta pee." says it all. Well, I'm moving on, and now I gotta pee too. Great. I just know that once I felt attached. MyUnwife was my whole world. Even when my world waned, she was the part that was still here. Now she's not, but I'm still here.
She's over there.
Why does divorce sound like a Sesame Street?
"Today is brought to you by the letter X."
That's great, but don't expect me to climb in bed with Bert and his paperclip collection. I don't care how much Cookie Monster begs. Ya know, I don't remember that episode either…
See though, This is all new, and I'm a kid watching cartoons. Sometimes things look Jose and the Pussycats cool, other times things look like my future will only be Sigmund and the Sea Monsters. One season was plenty of that crap, thank you very much.
I guess I'm really just worrying over nothing. I need to take one episode of Rob at a time. When next weeks cliffhanger airs, I'll find what happens to divorced Rob just like everybody else.
I just hope everything comes out alright. I kinda like that Rob guy, and I just bought my "I [heart[ Rob" T-shirt. Wait, this one says "I [spade] Rob" Wow, That's a plot twist I wasn't expecting...
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