Sick of The In-Between
It's not quite marriage, it's not quite divorce, and there's no slice of cantaloupe at the end
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That clip from The Simpsons has stayed in my head for 33(!) years. When it first aired I was in college and it became a running gag with my roommates. And just last week when I was handed a brunch menu at our hotel in Chicago I immediately thought it’s not quite breakfast …
That brilliant bit of writing (delivered by Albert Brooks no less) is the perfect template for describing what is turning out to be a fairly substantial chunk of my adult life. Not quite a happy marriage, not quite a miserable marriage, not quite a separation, not quite living apart, not quite a divorce, not quite on my own. No cantaloupe to be found. And for all the LeArNiNg AnD gRoWiNg I’ve been doing, I still quite regularly hit the wall and think I am so fucking sick of this shit.
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