I'll Have The Usual
Maybe it's the sunlight finally returning, or maybe it's a byproduct the adrenaline rush that comes from successfully dissociating from ongoing physical pain for several hours (I got a tattoo last night), but I woke up this morning with a sense of clarity I haven't felt in years. Welcome back, old friend.
I've been going about this all wrong. Why would I ever want to focus my energy on shackling myself to another man, of all things? Have I learned nothing? Some are okay I guess (there, that should shut them up), but let's face it. At my age, they have a tendency to grow increasingly sluggish and dull-witted, not to mention that most have already been used up and dropped by another woman before me. Plus, a remarkable number cheat on their wives, so why play the odds when I can just stand up from the table and break even? (I've had offers from sources both surprising and less-than-surprising over the years and it's enough to make me roll my eyes when I see those mushy anniversary posts that people throw up on social media as they celebrate another year of succumbing to inertia.) The last thing I need is a load of dead weight with erectile dysfunction and a bitchy ex-wife. Better to find the occasional boy-toy as needed and focus on the matter at hand.
The writing is on the wall, we're living in the apocalypse. I have a feeling we'll pull through (and I'm not sure that's a good thing), but the wealthy sociopaths playing chicken with the world won't go down without a fight, and until then it's time to focus on survival. While I would certainly welcome another child if I happened to get pregnant by surprise, I definitely don't need to waste my time and energy on broodiness and sentimentality. I've done enough fake smiling for holiday greeting cards (tilt your head, crinkle up your eyes and think of a funny joke you once heard) to play happy family for the friends and neighbors. Have I forgotten everything I've been taught? I was born for more than pushing out kids, picking a name that makes me seem hip and pushing a stroller to brunch with people I've decided to pretend are my friends. I have one child and she's already showing signs of a staggering intellect. She's clearly not getting enough mental stimulation at school, as soon as she gets home she devours books written for children years older than her and television shows about science and technology. Her idea of relaxing is taking apart and redesigning lego structures designed for older children, or learning a second and third language via apps on my phone. I know I can't keep her here for too much longer, because the more I learn about the education system in this country, the more disappointed I become. It's time to develop an exit strategy.
I should use this time to obtain skills that will render me employable anywhere on the planet, able to work from home in the event of additional pandemics/pollution/wars down the road, and that pays enough for me to purchase land with tenable soil and its own potable water source. I'm sure that when push comes to shove, I can rely on my leadership skills and quick reflexes to bring us through any rough patches, but it's prudent to make a safety net for my offspring so she doesn't have to deal with too much trauma that will only hold her back once she reaches adulthood. Maybe that's why the Creator brought me here. I can live in relative safety while I update my skill set and teach my daughter basic self-defense. Then I can move her to a place where she'll get to read Shakespeare and learn advanced mathematics, without the excessive bullying and high rates of teen pregnancy that seem to plague this relatively egalitarian, but still a bit provincial, society. And where I can get a decent cup of coffee.