...making a mockery of all you hold dear...

Seems like I've heard this somewhere before...

I am SOOoooo over it with the politics of this job, the airport, the whole community. I just don't even get worked up any more. Smile, nod, keep walking. If they're going to throw an honest man under the bus for being prickly, well, there's nothing I can do to prevent it. And I am not sure I will walk out with him, as I once was. Because see, it's even more than that. I've just read over my entire collection of marital emails for the last six months. That's not a very pretty picture, either. I can't tell if it's worse because of the job, or better. There's certainly less of it. Okay, really, there's virtually no marriage left. We see each other about once a month. Talk about twice a week, maybe. Then there's the random email here and there, often just gripes about jobs or bills or the like. He's getting his house ready for the market, very consistently and rigorously, so it's not blowing off steam like it might have been previously. He's on a mission. I just don't think it really includes me anymore. I'm getting ready to belly up to that one for good. Not that it means there's any kind of divorce imminent. When everything is this separate, what difference does it make? We could just plug along and maybe accrue some respectable number before signing off... I dunno. I'm just up here to remove some of my stuff and take it to storage, so ... what? I should be some kind of cheerful? I love the spring ... Passover is always my favorite holiday. I miss Stuart. I miss my bizarre mother. I got an email from Bess saying she was coming this-a-way... Bess? Oh, Be--essss? Shall I send up flares? I'll meet ya, sister, just send the mapquest...