year of the bastard

...or on the coming storm

a while back, the bastard was having a conversation with the nice lady over a year ago with regard to her mother moving west. i said that a life changing event such as this is a golden opportunity to become the person you always wanted to be. you do things differently and eventually you believe that you are the person you want to be and then a real life affirming thing happens, you become that person. the bastard has been trying this theory out on himself since the divorce. i have been trying to be less wound up. less full of vitriol. less humorless. and most days it works. i laugh at myself more than i used to. i take stuff more in stride. i seethe less. but, every now and then, we have a relapse. i rolled over some parking cones in from of the restaurant on saturday night, freaking out the parking valet. then in my head i thought i nonchanlantly told her i was going up to my apartment that i had lived in for the last 10 years. but, it sounded to her like i was being mean. i had relapsed into the old snide way i talk to the people who work for the people who fill me with vitriol. i won't let that happen again.

then it hit me this morning as i was having an awful morning. it was a dick van dyke morning. everything was clumsy and not working right and the only thing i didn't do was dump my cereal on myself. nope, it wasn't good. and i seethed. god how the bastard seethed. then it hit me (one cup of coffee in mind you), the storm is coming. my storm. the one that's made up of tons of work raining down like the hammers of hell with a chance of alot more. plus a chance of partly madness with showers to follow. it all makes sense now. so here we go. cover me...i'm going in shiteyes.

—the bastard