January 13, 2015

FROM THE DEPARTMENT OF STUPID DEPARTMENT

Plastic-wrapped kitchen.
Your father died a couple of months ago, right? And you've been sick since before that, right? Then you had your 70th birthday (a more disconcerting experience than you expected), right? Then you were in bed several days with the flu (the bad kind), right? And your wife was in bed several days with the flu (also the bad kind) too and went back to work before she should have, right? And the dental work. There's all of her ongoing dental work, pain, etc. Your life was pushing the edge of out of control for all kinds of reasons, right? In fact, there were lots of days when it didn't feel like your life at all, when things felt off-center and there was no way to get them back to where they belong, right? Right.

So, in the face of all these things you decided to go ahead with a long-planned, but delayed and further delay-able, kitchen remodel - which involved a whole week of demolition, constant noise from power chisels, brick dust and strangers and made your beloved house feel like it wasn't really home at a time when feeling at home would have felt pretty good. Right.

Not only that, but this is only the beginning. There are bleak out-of-whack weeks of work to go.

And how do you view this?

It is among the stupidest decisions I've ever participated in making. And I can't deny my participation. Or my stupidity.

And the payoff? Tonight my wife accused me of not taking care of her enough and said she is spending too much time taking care of me. Our life never has been her and me. We always have taken care of each other.

So fuck the kitchen. Fuck the remodel. Fuck the bricks and fuck the cabinets. Fuck anything and everything that threatens the one real happiness I've known in my life. Ever.

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