I’ve just gotten off the phone with the cat council for bedroom affairs, I have lodged a formal request for M.B.’s cat Bozo to cease and desist any and all efforts to sleep on my head. Until we get a ruling it looks like I will be unable to finish my evening’s respite, so I might as well type. Some nights Bozo just gets the crazies and there is nothing to be done. You can put him out of the room, but by the time feet hit floor it’s too late isn’t it: pesky adrenal glands. (Pesky is the word of the month, look for it in upcoming sentences.)

So then I was up surfing late night mental television and I came across this obscure UHF station broadcasting all regrets all the time. I can’t say that I’d recommend the line up. It’s primarily televangelists, ex-girlfriends, wounded friends, and infomercials. You are much better served by tuning into something like the graditude channel. So, I am grateful that to the best of my knowledge my exes are doing reasonably well. If we acknowledged the ways in which we’ve hurt each other then there is room to grow and there is the possibility of preventing future hurt, if by no other means then our continued avoidance of one another. Ha. I keep humor in my panacea cupboard for just such emergencies.

I have the same problems in my personal life that I do in the game of chess. I open strong, I overextend, I tend toward the reactive rather than keeping a clear strategy in mind, I don’t maximize my assets, I am too quick to castle, and then one incident follows another until it all falls apart. At least I’ve learned not to develop my queen to early. I’m glad you were here so I could get that off my chess. Pesky Persian pawns provoke postulations on privation, and an empty bed can go to the head.

“Things fall apart, the center cannot hold, mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.” Postmodern Yeats: with rationalizations aplenty for the entropy of love lost. I’m getting better, but it is after all a complicated endeavor. Ah good. I am getting sleepy again. O.K. the cat has been routed and I’ve had my sippy cup of juice. It’s time to tuck myself back in. Sweet dreams baby James. “Something in the way she moves, looks my way, or calls my name, that seems to leave this troubled world behind. And if I’m feeling down and blue or troubled by some foolish game, she always…” well sometimes… all right I’m going back to bed.