I Didn't Break Up with You

Hi, friends (meekly), how are you? I still love you, and ithardlymatters. But I've been hired away to write about music on zoom-in.com. It's fun, and I'm writing a lot, which is good and excellent and fulfilling. In fact, right now, I'm supposed to be writing for them, but instead, I'm writing here. About them, granted, but it's something!

In other news, the light in my bathroom is out, my wireless router died, my phone is not holding a charge, I had to get the Cruiser jumped a few weeks ago, my iPod battery had to be replaced, my printer ink is getting dangerously low, my debit card was apparently used at a retail merchant where "security lapses occurred," so I have to activate a new card, it took my 2 hours to figure out my NY state tax forms this morning, the soles of my favorite boots are coming apart, and my therapist can't see me next week because of a scheduling conflict.

What happens when everything breaks, needs new parts? At first, it's a giant pain in the ass. But then the new parts arrive or are attached, and the sense of accomplishment and newness overwhelms you with a warm swoosh breathing future as it passes. Breaks beget growth. You're supposed to snap off the wilting heads of flowerpot pansies so new ones will sprout. You get your hair cut. You get a snack during the commercial break. You can only become friends after you break up.

So I've taken a break, but I'm back, better. Like my boots will be, with new soles.