Mostly Good Friday

Actually, today was rough, though more like a "full moon" rough than "Friday the 13th" rough. I managed to get through the day by smirking to myself : that, of course, the day before Valentine's Day is Friday the 13th. We also had a nice treat in that we got free-ish pizza for lunch, which will always brighten my day.


My most disturbing customer was the one whom I asked, "Do you want me to go over any transactions for you?" asked me, "What is that?" --not knowing what the word transaction means.

I was trying to review my personal history for some funny V-day anecdotes. I remember 1986's well, but it is more spooky than anything else, given who I was dating and how I let that mess up my life for the next year. I must have been the youngest nineteen year old in the world.

On an unrelated topic, one thing that really annoys me is that despite what I felt were my best efforts, I realized last year that I had unknowingly emulated the one person I wanted to avoid emulating: Scarlett O'Hara. Growing up, watching or reading "Gone with the Wind" was always a cautionary tale: don't go mooning after some dope and in the process scare off your true soulmate (or whatever). While my tale is not quite as dramatic, I realized that there are some alarming parallels. For years I felt this connection to a person and did some things that I now view with loathing because of what I had felt. It was not until I was woken up from this that I realized what I had long suspected- that anyone truly worthy of my regard would not have envisioned putting me in the situation that he did, even with my assent. Now that the proverbial veil has been lifted from my eyes, I realized how much life was sucked out of me. He might have been a pillar of integrity twenty years ago, but that pillar has been knocked over and ground into road gravel.

And a key difference, too, is that I am not sure but I don't think Scarlett forbade herself from thinking about Rhett during the years between the first barbecue at Twelve Oaks and wherever it was that hey met again. And Rhett was not alarmed/repelled/scared off etc by her when they did meet again. Scarlett did not have my amazing abilities of denial.


ANYWAY.
I have only to get through eight hours of well-meaning customers wishing me a happy V-day, then I can look forward to scoring lots of half-price candy the next day. This weekend's project is to finish Season 5 of "Highlander" and (gasp) read through some of my old poetry. I may even feel lucid enough to go back to working on my memoirs, circa 1981.