Loved this this morning – felt like it should be reblogged. Here’s to embracing the fact that I am far from ordinary. 🙂
About a week after Fartbuster and I separated, he came by the house one night so we could talk. It had been a rough day for me. I had spent the afternoon at a funeral for the husband of a coworker. He had died too young after a grueling dose of stomach cancer. During the service, I stared at my wedding ring (I hadn’t told anyone that we were living apart yet) and wondered what would become of my life, who would cry for me. That evening, I was overwrought and wrung out and completely used up–so what BETTER time to hash things out with my wayward husband?
So there we met, leaning against the counters in our kitchen. My kitchen. The kitchen. Whatever. And Fartbuster was telling me all about the book he was reading–Hermann Hesse’s “The Glass Bead Game.” In great detail. Greeeeeeaaaat detail. Exhaustive detail. I’m…
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