So, as we often do as humans, I've finally embraced the sheer gruesomeness of my situation, and had a meltdown. I felt it coming. It's like a hot flash, only worse. The body heats, the hands shake, and not even a King Size Reese's cup will thwart it. And, let me tell you, if you have something that a King Size Reese's cup can't fix, you're screwed.
So, I felt the meltdown coming, and quickly fled to the cavern my mother calls her basement. It's kind of like where the Phantom of the Opera lives, but without the monkey music box, fabulous orchestra, and the need to keep your hand at the level of your eyes.
So, I'm in the cavern, and it comes. I'm a wreck, crying, screaming into a towel that smelled a little musty, but was still absorbent, and then.......... I step on the cat. Not only do I step on her, but in an attempt to gain my footing, I kick her halfway across the floor. Poor kitty.
She's fine. I'm not. I'm a mess, bawling, and cursing the Universe for its unfairness. I'm bent over the old pool table, trying not to heave up something I ate in March, and I see it. An Exacto knife. Now, don't get nervous. I wasn't thinking of succumbing to the darkness. I was more thinking "hey, there's an Exacto knife."
They're cool.
So, treasure in hand, I am thinking, "what can I use this for?" Then it hit me. I'd use it to scratch out a countdown, kind of like Tom Hanks did in Castaway, but without the need to discuss it with a soccer ball first. So, I found a piece of plywood, and made my first notch.
One notch.
One day.
The first in what I've decided is a fifty-day plan to reclaim my life. I am going home. In fifty days I will be there. I've decided. Everything I do will be for this purpose, to get home in fifty days.
It could be daunting, but it's not. A lot can be accomplished in fifty days. In fact, you could sprain your ankle, hang out in the Barcalounger with a bag of Doritos and an ice pack for two or three days, and still accomplish a lot in fifty days.
I plan to.
I'll keep you posted...........
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