Well, this is a shamefully overdue post, isn’t it?
No, I really haven’t fallen off the face of the Earth, though not for lack of trying, I’m told, by those attempting to contact me. I had a bit of a change in my life this past August and it’s taken me six rather long months to adjust to it. After all, it’s only a new occupation. Does that seem excessive to you, too? Oh, good. I thought it was just me. How I managed that last post in November boggles my mind and I’ve spent obscene amounts of the time getting my brain to catch up with the rest of the events in my life. I know how jealous you all must be, but really, I have to ask you to restrain yourselves. We’re all adults here and that kind of attitude doesn’t get anyone anywhere.
Are you rolling your eyes right along with me? Good. Glad to see you’re still reading.
Anyway, the past six months notwithstanding, I have discovered the secret to life. Holy non-sequitur, Batman! Not really, especially if you consider that forcing myself to become a real-life grown-up adult in the past six months wasn’t the only thing I spent my time on. Not only have I discovered it, however, but I will also share it here with you, right here on Allegro Moderato!
“Surely not!” you cry.
Yes! Surely! Oh, do, please get ahold of yourself…I can hardly let you in on the secret if you’ve swooned all over the conveniently-placed Oriental rug, now can I? And if you can’t handle even knowing that I have alighted upon this important fact, how do you suppose you’ll react if I tell you what it is? I do believe that’s a quandary–or at the very least, a large dilemma.
Now that I think about it, you’re clearly not ready for this secret. After all, it is quite an important piece of knowledge and I would hate to burden my conscience with the idea that I’ve passed it along to you in good faith, only to see you collapse under the very weight of its enormity. You would try your hardest to forget it but let’s not kid ourselves that the secret of life would really just flit out of your mind at a moment’s notice simply because you wanted it to. I can only imagine, then, that you would fill your head with other thoughts to try and jam it out but the secret of life is no flimsy piece of speculation built on a mound of hearsay, after all. And with all of those mental gymnastics, coupled with the secret oozing back like the pink stuff in Ghostbusters, you’d spend the rest of your days walking around and swooning on elaborately-worked carpetry. What kind of karma would I get for that?
It is only fitting, then, that I keep it to myself. I’m sorry, but I just can’t trust you with it. Perhaps one day you’ll prove to me that I should let you in on it but for now, it stays precariously ensconced in the cottage cheese that stands in for my mind these days.
Lovely to be back, ladies and gentlemen.
