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But I'M NOT BITTER...
The Goddess of battle, strife, and destruction explains it all for you

Crushed

by

 

Jul 3, 2007

 

Iím settling in here with more ease than I thought I would; work is going swimmingly and I find myself in a state of nearly constant amusement.

 

Let me qualify that:these days I find my life an endless parade of absurdity and I canít help but see the humour in that, though I deal with the depths of human failings, outright depravity and evil on a constant basis.

 

And Iím paying to go to work:my salary does not even begin to cover my medical expenses.

 

That being said:this is my metier and my daily bread.And quite a privilege besides.I canít believe they pay me to do this job.This is a labour of love.

 

Observation and experience tell me that I either laugh or I develop a substance abuse problem -- this job is as high stress as it comes and a release valve is required.

 

I choose to laugh.

 

While I continue in my unrelenting ambition to wither in loveless spinsterhood, I have been getting out now and then, mostly in a futile attempt to retain what rudimentary social skills I possess.I have been keeping company with the Fireman infrequently -- but there is nothing remotely romantic involved in the exercise (at least not on my part).Iím looking at it more as an anthropological adventure:I just cannot predict the things that will come out of this manís mouth.Usually his pronouncements are so bizarre Iím convinced heís kidding but given his behaviour, Iím forced to consider the possibility that he may, in fact, be entirely serious in his attitudes.

 

I like him because he makes me feel like Iím Margaret Mead.

 

He is well aware of the fact that I spend a fortune each month on medications, as I have no benefits through work and there is not an insurance company in the world who will touch me.Recently, I was presented with the opportunity to move (again!) about 3 hours north for a job that would guarantee me full benefits.It was tempting for that reason and that reason only.I went for the interview and spent the morning before it walking around the town.By the time Iíd wandered down the one main street, I had resolved that no force on earth (even benefits) could persuade me to live there:it made Mayberry seem like The Eternal City.

 

Upon my return, I discussed the day with the Fireman.He came up with the following solution:since I spend $5000/month in meds, he suggested that I marry him in order to access his benefits.Then I could pay him $3000 a month for the privilege of sharing his home and still save over $24,000a year!What girl could ask for more?I was sure he was joking but no, he was in complete earnest.Somewhat startled (and more than a little amused), I declined his proposal (bringing the total number of times he has asked for my hand up to 4).When I mentioned this to my friend at work, she advised me to agree and then tell him Iíd sleep with him twice a month -- at $3000.00 a pop.

 

Iím not quite sure why I continue to put myself through this, though the entertainment value is considerable.Heís a pleasant enough fellow, though his views on women would be more typical in a man born 400 years ago.Womenís suffrage is a concept that hasnít quite permeated his consciousness and I donít expect it will ever make much of an impact.Conversing with him is akin to participating in a science experiment.

 

He, on the other hand, seems quite determined to march me down the aisle.Not, I hasten to say, because heís besotted with me.He has shown no interest whatsoever in my finer feelings and hasnít expressed any admiration for my character or my form (though he often opines that I have a ďspectacular rackĒ).

 

Nope -- given the conversations Iíve overheard him have with his friends, I suspect that the Fireman is of the opinion that I am A Good Catch.

 

To him, I look good on paper.(I get that, but it makes me smile.)

 

One day as we were on our way to Home Depot (heís still renovating my place -- my mama didnít raise no fool), his cell phone rang.ďNo, I canít make it today,Ē he said.ďIím with that girl I told you about -- The Lawyer.ĒAt times, I doubt he even recalls my name -- I am ďThat LawyerĒ to his friends and his family -- heís even spoken of me to his parents (a chilling development) and they have urged him to pass along their regards to ďThat Lawyer youíre seeingĒ.

 

While I admit that while I am within his visual proximity, he does presumably ďseeĒ me, I struggle with the terminology in any other sense of the term.

 

Till next time,

 

Morrigan

 

 

 



Copyright© the Morrigan & Heartless Bitches International (heartless-bitches.com) 2007
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