Earlier today, out of nowhere and for no reason, I had the following thought, "When I get into a relationship again, I'm going to need a therapist and a tranquilizer gun." I don't know what that means and so I don't know whether to take that as a sign of progress or psychosis. I guess it would depend on whether or not the tranquilizer gun would be for me or the other person. Scratch that, neither scenario is good.
A tranquilizer gun, really? Do I expect to be with a lion? Do I think there's a chance I might become a werewolf? Exactly how much do I think I'll need to tone shit down? Sex jokes aside, really, seriously, what kind of problem do I think will arise where the only solution will be to shoot someone unconscious? I'm not planning on dating a fledgling vampire or a circus bear.
What bothers me is that I'm the one who had the thought and I don't know what it means. I started out wanting to blog about getting a Christmas tree with my kids and then BAM! relationship epiphany with guns. This is why the therapist will be necessary.
All this reminds me, there was a quote by Gustave Flaubert in The Writer's Almanac the other day that I must share. He said, "Be regular and orderly in your life so that you may be violent and original in your work." So maybe my relationship thought was me...working? Was I writing it? Was it a character's thought, a character who's nothing like me, who's short and loud and good with math, three things that are totally and utterly unlike me? Except for the one thing we have in common which is that we're terrified of relationships? Oh dammit!!!
Oh well. Christmas tree post to follow tomorrow, a story in which no one will be tranquilized.