Long, kinda dull, but necessary description of what really happened yesterday.

2002-06-07 - 1:44 p.m.

Last night's entry and last night's entry title have no connection to each other, from what I can see. And, in fact, I was pretty wasted. When I'm drunk and typing I get all careful-like.

So, a more accurate rendition of yesterday, further demonizing Pookie in the eyes of my loyal readers. I'll start building him up again once he stops being a goof. I tend towards telling only the interesting bits, which is often a good trait in a writer or story-teller, but not a great one in someone who must live in a world where character isn't made up of dramatic moments, but is instead of the small details, the mundane acts, the day-to-day. And day-to-day Pookie is pretty good to and for me. It's just these little vignettes that irk me so.

(Hee. Notice how I both began and ended that paragraph with "so"? I am so easily amused.)

Anyway, he came home from work, small-talked, as did I. Another of his patients died yesterday, and one of his co-workers who is supposed to be opening up to their group but isn't got angry, again. We went out for wine, found out our rent cheque bounced, talked with the cute-ish little red-head guy at the wine store who likes Star Wars in general, but hates episodes I and II. He said that George Lucas is raping our childhood. Then we came home.

I offered to read "Anti-Lit Devil cat" to him, just because. Oration is one of my favourite parts of writing...finding out what works in the spoken word and what doesn't. First he interrupted me to make a phone call. Then he did the dishes while I read, and did not stop until I was done. First words out of his mouth, sounding very much like both my parents: "So when are you going to do something with that and get it published?"

Pause. Beat. Beat.

My reply, snarky and defensive: "Well whenever you decide to become a success."

So, The Magus is not as pure and holy as I may have led you to believe.

He asked me if I was upset at him for some reason, and I stopped, considered, apologized for my delivery, and then said "Yes."

I gave him the please don't interrupt me, even though you have your own take on things spiel, and I was able to put two sentences together without him interrupting, though he wanted to. As evidenced by all the times he would start to say something and then would stop himself. Which, as I mentioned before, is almost as good at derailing me.

I told him how I felt about not being able to be angry in his presence without being hushed, which was one of the five biggies. He explained that he was always trying to help solve whatever makes me angry, and in some cases he can't, and that makes him just as frustrated. I let him know that sometimes he just has to be a sounding board and let me verbalize my feelings. Once they're in words, I can deal with them better, apply them. I get fiercely angry, but it never lasts all that long with me.

So, I'd call the whole talk a 50% success...a barely passing grade.

Anyway, I've got a shwack of things to do, and it's already the afternoon, so off I go.

And a shout-out to Merv-of-the-Unworking-Eyes for putting up an entry, and a reminder that she can get her very own guestbook by clicking on the link underneath the guestbook link. Then I can laugh at her silly antics on her own site.

Cheers,

The Magus

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