DIBS!

 

“So what,” you ask, fundamentally fed up with all this stalling, “do you need such a whacking great tank for?

long aquarium with black sand and live plants, half full of water

Would you believe I just want a nice space to grow new plants?

 

To fulfill a promise made to itty bitty me.

 

Basically, it’s very expensive therapy.[1]

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!

Perfectly Reasonable

 

It’s not, as you’ve probably guessed, a baby shark.

 

For one thing, I’m not an idiot and I know that baby sharks grow into adult sharks[1] who deserve way more space than I’m prepared to provide.[2]

 

But leaving Offspring guessing about what I was plotting here while he nobly battles red tape and ignorance in support of… whatever it is we’re doing over there.  I’ve honestly forgotten.

clubhouse/lounge in Bagram hanger, made of "tactically acquired" pallets and bits of wood, covered with a tarp. Strung with Christmas lights.

So have they.

 

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vs. The Vacuum

 

What with one thing and another, we’ve been making heavy use of professional pet sitters recently (I found a service that lets me book online, without ever speaking to another human, but still sends the same actual human every time to take care of my furry darlings; basically, it’s the antisocial control-freak’s ideal and every business should adopt this model) which exposed a few unkempt corners around the house as well as kicking up a few dustbunnies within my psyche.

 

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Chapter Fifteen: The End

 

Deserve is the most useless word in our language, and should be removed from the common lexicon.

 

I’ve been reading and hearing it a lot lately;

  • You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.
  • You deserved better parents.
  • I don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.
  • I deserve to know.
  • I deserve to choose.

 

But here’s the thing: that word doesn’t matter.  Deserving something, believing you deserve it, having hoards of people say you deserve it, doesn’t change shit.

 

You get what you get.

 

As my father used to point out to me on a near-daily basis: life isn’t fair.

 

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Fur is the New Black

 

I just checked my stats this week, and I’ve got some bad news.

 

Statistically speaking, we are not friends.

 

I mean, obviously I love you because you take time out of your day to come here and read about me—my favorite topic in the world, thankyouverymuch—but there’s no denying that I don’t know and have never met an estimated 99.993% of you.*

 

Woman concentrates while equations flash

Math.  Not even once.

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!