Sitting at the kitchen counter with Norma cooking on a Friday night and it’s been, let’s see here, 31 days in October plus 8 in November, which makes 39 days since Salon and I broke up and I think I’m finally crawling out from under it.

I was a little surprised at the power with which the breakup at odd moments descended. Like what the hell? I begin to see now that for 38 days I have been more or less going Wahh Wahh you don’t love me You must Love me Why don’t you Love Me You really Must Love Me Because I never did Anything to Hurt you and I’m Really So Lovable Wahh Wahh you Can’t be Serious about wanting to Break Up We Were Together for so long and Maybe I took you For Granted once or Twice but Wait a Minute are you Sure You Don’t Wanna talk this Through first before doing something so Irreversible because Hey It’s not Just me I mean I can handle it but I’m not Sure You Know what you’re doing

(which is of course the voice of the jilted and insecure ego)

… Which Reminds Me:

In the shower this morning before going to this new meeting in Bernal Heights I was thinking about the ego:

Ego deflates. Ego reinflates.

lovely thing about that