I have five minutes, so I will say that mediation kind of blows. That was the most time I’ve spent with my ex since I moved out four years ago. One thing I didn’t expect was for us to not just have totally different goals, but totally different perspectives as well.

(See, now I’m reading it, and this sounds stupid. Of course we don’t agree. But it was like two people in a room…one thinks you should eat peanut butter sandwiches for every meal, and the other thinks everyone would like to wear puce every day. And the goal is to get the farmer, fox, and chicken across the river. Where do you go from there?)

I was all excited on Saturday about how much progress we’d made, and then he sent an email undoing everything. If he doesn’t recant, we are back to square one for our next session.

Well, I will know what to expect. One less thing to fear.

Moar later.

12 thoughts on “

  1. I just wanted to say, I keep reading “meditation” instead of “mediation.” It’s always good for a pause, and then a laugh at my mad reading comprehension skeelz.

  2. to remedy this situation do you
    A) coat the chicken in peanut butter
    B) paint the boat puce
    C) point out that while eating peanut butter it is difficult to say “puce” so another color choice would be better
    D) insist that it would be unfair to make the fox or the chicken wear clothes of any color
    E) shoot the farmer. he was annoying anyway.

  3. I keep reading “meditation” too…then feeling like a fool for my special reading skills.

    Maybe that means that you are supposed to meditate there and not MEDIATE…you know meditate until he turns into a peanut butter coated puce wearing chicken….I will work on that for you, while you deal with the giant tool.

    good luck.

  4. poopcakes. fingers, toes, and other odd appendages crossed that his one brain cell has bright idea to take long walk off short pier. i hear you have lots of them up thar.

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