Honesty and Cowardice

I got to thinking today, about the last year or two, and pondered a lot of what ifs. I am a bit of a hypocrite for using the word coward, when I am usually so busy standing aside to avoid confronting emotions.

What if the first job had stopped punting corporatism and started recommending actual education, for a start?  I would probably still be doing it, and never leave the house. That would be a relief on one hand, and on the other, look at all the interesting stuff I would have missed.

What if Little Shiva had not been married or otherwise bothered by other people’s opinions?  We might still be at the bank, living together and fighting incessantly.  Perhaps we would be expecting a child.  That is quite an odd thought.  I certainly wouldn’t have time to be making anything. I’d probably be a lot thinner, on the plus side. My capacity for sex, along with most other things, is limited only by waking hours. That is why I tend to avoid it. My patience for cricket probably wouldn’t last long.

What if there hadn’t been a psychopath at the next bank I stumbled into?  (to the point that I honestly thought I was going to have a stroke and was glad to leave) I might be enjoying a giant call centre.

What if Bawbag hadn’t been the way he was?  My work might be getting some actual exposure and I might have actually got to finish it.  In the event that I hadn’t managed to drag Little Shiva back to my cave, I might be engaged in some bizarre love square. I doubt it, I still prefer the belt sander, sorry bawbag.  You are so nice 20 percent of the time, but the other 80 is just not worth it. You told me that yourself.

I am kind of tired of being lonely to be honest.  Little Shiva came as quite a shock, because I honestly did not think I wanted a real person until the evil chemistry kicked in.  Real people hurt.  You miss real people when they leave the room etc. I’m still not over it.

Where is my single cute grumpy dude?  I think it is probably time I met one.


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