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So. The last of the court's paperwork is about complete. Didn't get it done within the 20 day period that would have avoided the requirement to have a court appearance. Oh, well. We'll spend 20 minutes at the City & County Building. I seriously don't expect it to take more trouble than a traffic ticket, and I don't know how I feel about that.

The weird thing is that it's paperwork. So I've been telling myself for a while. It's not the important part. But it turns out not to be just paperwork. It was already a very unexpectedly heavy slog. Then she looked at me and said "You want to do this?"

Well, fuck. It's only been years, with two useless turns through couples counseling and endless repetition of the same fucking discussion/argument and no change and not even any significant communication about anything not completely practical. So, yes I want to finish this stupid fucking paperwork.

But no, I don't want to reject you and throw away all this history. I don't want this divorce. I just don't...

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if you get a chance to see Martin McDonagh's feckin' play The Lieutenant of Inishmore, do not feckin' hesitate. Nevermind the 6 gallons of feckin' fake blood or the 30+ gunshots. It's feckin' hilarious, as are the other McDonagh shows I've seen, but it goes way beyond those. He's known as a crazy feckin' feck, and this seems to be him saying to himself "What, they think THOSE were the work of a feckin' feck? Well THIS will feckin' show them!!"

Warning, though: Cat lovers will be simultaneously fascinated and repulsed.

Dunno what I did to deserve these fucking back spasms. I've not had trouble with this for a long time now, pretty much since I started working on strengthening the core muscles after the pinched nerve incident 4 years ago. Before that, lower back pain was a pretty regular problem for me. But especially over the last couple years, when I've done a regular gym routine, I've had almost no problems.

Then wham yesterday morning. I was fine at the gym and when I arrived at work. Stood up to go to a meeting at 10 am, and my back informed me that it was just plain fucked up. I don't remember tweaking it in any specific event. The ache was just suddenly there, like it always had been, and I just wasn't noticing it for a while.

The only explanation I can think of is that I got out of the morning gym routine while traveling to the PCA event. I wonder if I'm now addicted to the stupid exercise, and the bod is going to go into withdrawal spasms if I ever skip. Weird.

And another thing that's weird is counting...

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02.04.2012

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