A continuing saga—last installment

This evening I received only bills in the mail. It is the first time I am glad to see that my bills are only bills. The highly personal letter, with the ridiculous wax seal (which the post office charges extra to deliver), was not returned. Hurrah. I'm far from being in the clear, however, and there's still the unlikely event that aforementioned ex–gf never receives letter because it might be intercepted. Well, good! It doesn't matter to me that I heard rumors in my dreams that she had married one of my buddies from school. Isn't that shameful that I don't even know who she lives with?

On the other hand, I have the luxury of saying fuck my school friends, those good for nothing slackers. I like using English slang even though I don't know what they mean. Slackers, wankers, sods. I dunno. No time to look them up on urbandic.

I stand corrected. And the contradictions continue.

Sad but true. I guess if I can imagine that kind of thing happening, it's liable to happen to me. Think about it. If I were married to somebody like Catherine Zeta-Jones, you can bet your bottom dollar I would be suspicious of her whereabouts. I can't imagine that a marriage with a goddess could contain any trust. A person can tell themselves that they trust their spouse, but I think there's always a hairline of suspicion, which is probably healthy for the relationship. After all, isn't making your lover jealous right up there with being caressed?