Letting go of the angry

All's well here. The F-word is getting more work. I've discovered how to be less defensive and more coherent (I think, anyways). We're off for a bit of a camp next week. Some of his family drama is getting resolved . . . and I've decided to stop being angry about the quintessential "bitch at work" - thanks, Chris Rock . . . hope you intended the world to be able to gender-bend with that epithet because my particular "bitch at work" is most definitely a man. A man who I think has both some serious psychological problems, and some tits that are bigger than mine coz' he's fat, but it is not cricket that I point it out, even though it's funny.

Actually, I'm pretty sure he's just trying to get fired - so I'm letting go of any anger. The thought that it'd be nice to get fired has occurred to me many a time, as long term readers may recall (though not now, since I'm on contract and actually like my job), and while I always ultimately rejected the idea as too fucking irresponsible in terms of its impact on my co-workers, I can both understand where this fucking chucklehead is coming from and I can minimize his impact, so I don't much care.

Anyways, in more general terms, I really find it amazing how men with psychological problems are so much more annoying to me than women with psychological problems. There are a lot of ways you could analyze the whys of that but I think the main one is that women, bless'em, really do their best to subsume all their fucking turmoil - make a college effort to at least try to seem like they're keeping it to themselves (obviously with a lot of spectacular fails but there you are) while when men have psychological problems, the incontinent cunts turn it into the whole world's problem. And then act surprised when they die alone. Well, whatever, I doubt one strategy's better than another, fundamentally.

My violent happy little darling

Now up to one hour in my runs and feeling pretty ace about it, except there's been a revolting new spot of chafe: just over the solar plexus, marring the vista of my spectacular tits. It did lead to some in-house jokes about the original title of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" being "Eczema of the Heart" or "Acute Leprosy of the Heart". Running also continues to make me flatulent, with hilarious results on Sunday morning while I was jogging past the front door of the local cathedral and let go of an absolutely ripping fart just at that point of utter pre-hymn silence right before the organ kicks in. I would never have done such a disrespectful thing on purpose but, frankly, I was tickled pink that I'd done it unwittingly.

Also tickled pink, guiltily, by reports from Sugarplum that Lexie now gets along with the other cat in the household, a gentle Tom, well enough to viciously attack Sugarplum while she attempted to bathe and groom him. As far as I'm aware, it is the first time Lexie has left actual gouges on a person. The story goes that this tom, who has been loved and taken care of all his life (vs Lexie, who was neglected for the first several years of hers to the point of occasionally having to fend for herself, I believe) and is as gentle as a feather, was crying and hissing, but not offering any violence, as Sugarplum cut some matts out of his hair and bathed him. Finally his crying got so bad that Lexie, who had been watching the proceedings intently, launched a vicious attack on Sugarplum.

I feel very bad indeed for Sugarplum, and damn relieved that she's the sort of person who understands that sort of behaviour, and damn happy for Lexie. It was always a point of guilt for me that she was an only-pet; it made me feel bad when we left her alone for any length of time. So I always promised myself that when we got a new cat, we'd get two - or get a kitten and a puppy at the same time - or something, so that they'd be able to give each other some sort of company when the humans were otherwise preoccupied. But I assumed that Lexie was too used to being an only cat, that she was too old to deal with a change in circumstances like that, and that the reason it was going to work at Sugarplum's house with the resident tom was that the place was big enough for them to have seperate territories. It is a really beautiful surprise for me that they are getting along now. Like, little tears of happiness surprise. I think my darling girl is really in a better place in more ways than one now.