Once I had a farm in Africa…

I had a great love and a life partner.

She's been gone forever and thinks I'm trash.

So be it. Gaza is more important than me.

Today she was forced to communicate with lowly me. She forwarded an invoice. No message. Just the invoice. For $114.

This is a huge adult step forward for my ex, who grew up in a damaged environment where difficult, mundane, and insane conversations were treated equally.

My ex still can't tell those three apart, either. She can't tell a joke, flubs irony every time, and doesn't know when she should be ashamed. 

Side note:  irony isn’t wonderful.  There are many approaches to life that are potentially more rewarding for everyone and the planet.  But the LACK of irony—that indicates mania. That is an empty hollow well, dry, waiting to absorb carcasses. There is no sound when a soul hits the bottom.   

Anyway, my ex-wife could not deliver a punchline. I could and I covered for her every day. 

 But that's ok.

Those of us who know you long since accepted that about you. The show is fun to be around with you. You don't have any substance to contribute and you don't need to. Red hair and non-stop chatter are more than enough.

Maybe not for lesbians. I don't know about that. Neither do you!

Love you. Thanks for the $114 love note earlier. Welcome to the gates of adulthood. You can do it. Look at what I've done without your help.