Nerd Birthday

Today is my meaning-of-life-the-universe-and-everything birthday. If you know what that means, well you just might be a nerd. Don’t worry, you’re in good company.

Things are good.

I’ve gotten quite a bit of writing done. I made the deadlines for both my Masters Review competition as well as NYC Midnight’s Short Story Challenge with stories that I think are pretty solid. I’ve submitted a handful of pieces to literary magazines. Gracefully shouldered a decline or two, waiting on others, and polishing a few more. I’m thinking of taking an online writing class at Stanford over the summer. There are lot of words in my future.

As for the rest of my life… There are a couple of shows that I’m thinking of auditioning for. Work is good. Derpy Dog is fantastic. Winter hasn’t been overly wintry. I’ve lost a few pounds. I killed it in the adulting department and have already submitted my taxes. The Feds are sending me a respectable return. I’m wearing a fabulous new dress today.

I’m happy.

Cue the ominous music.

Guess who felt the need to intrude into my life today. If you guessed The Douche, you would be the grand prize winner. The last time he was in contact me was about a year and a half ago. He was crying to come “home,” begging me to talk to him. After dozens of ignored e-mails, I finally had to tell him that if he had anything of a legal nature to discuss with me, to contact my lawyer. Otherwise, leave off.

He responded with a huffy, “enough said. goodbye,” and commenced radio silence. I couldn’t have been more pleased.

Then today he decided it was critical that he wish me happy birthday and so sent me a text. I realize that I never blocked his phone number. During his stalking phases he wasn’t big on calling/texting, so it never occurred to me. (I expect he didn’t use the phone because it was too easy for The Strumpet to find out. He’s learned a thing or two about sneaking since the days when he was cheating on me.)

Anyways. I’m not going to let him ruin my epic nerdy birthday. I do feel kind of bad for him. The fact that he is still trying to connect to me, says something. What it says is that he’s not happy. That he’s harboring unpleasant feels – whatever they may be – regret, guilt, discontent. Couldn’t happen to a nicer dude.

Now if you’ll excuse me I have festivities to attend to!


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