"The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley."
Robert Burns laid that phrase to page in 1785, and 226 years later, I feel I can comfortably say that he was damn right. Those schemes sure do have a way of ganging aft agley. Or, more simply, no matter how well you plot things out, no matter how good your intentions, things often don't go as you plan. For better or worse, I've become very familiar with this concept. It's frustrating no matter who you are, but for a guy with mild OCD, it's something I've really grown to hate.
"Sir David, this blog is for wackiness, and you're quoting Romantic era Scottish poets!"
I know. I'm trying to make sure I meet the requisite wack quota while still getting down what's on my mind here. I have to express myself right now, and this seems like a suitable venue. I'll try not to get angst all over your couch, but all of my schemes are presently in the process of ganging hella agley*, and I guess I need to talk, even if only to myself.
A while ago, I met an amazing girl. We fell in love, and before long, we started making plans to move in together. We both started working so we'd be able to pay the bills, and found some apartments and a house that we liked as options. Well, given the subject of this post, I think you can guess where this is going, and your guess would be exactly right: things went all pear-shaped. I hold out some hope that the situation might only be bent rather than broken, and that it will in time return to the more pleasing figure of, say, a starfruit (which is, as everyone knows, the best of all fruit shapes), but there can be no guarantees, and I don't dare develop any sort of confidence in that outcome, because I'm pretty sure that if I did, Murphy himself would descend from his crystal throne and smite me most grievously in the face with his fearsome scepter. And also because the coin is just completely up in the air, and I don't know how long it's going to take before it reaches the apogee of its arc, let alone which side will land facing up. All I do know is how I feel, and what I want to happen. It scares me a little to know both that I'm not in control of the outcome and that I'm too close to this thing to see it clearly. I never have been any good at accepting what fate hands to me, and love certainly doesn't help with that.
The reason I feel Fuzzy Blogic is the place to talk about this is simple: Fuzzy Blogic is another collection of big plans that never got off the ground. We used to have big ideas for this place, and we're still not willing to let them go. That parallel made me decide to write this. These plans are much more easily restored, much more within my immediate reach.
I have more to ramble about, but I don't have the mental acuity to say any of it coherently in my present state, so for now I'll return you to your regularly scheduled madness. Maybe this time it'll actually be regularly scheduled.
* I'm probably overusing this phrase. I'm not trying to carry on an overly long gag; I just really love the word 'agley', and I think we should bring it back.
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