This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper
– t.s. elliot

Apparently at 10:33 AM on December 7th in West Chester a judge signed a piece of paper freeing me from the bonds of matrimony.

I was drinking coffee in my monkey jammies and looking for things to Tweet.  I didn’t even notice my status change.

No bang.

Not really a whimper.

Certainly not the end of the world.

Very anticlimactic.

Interestingly, this means that my personal D-day falls on the same date as the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  Which was NOT D-day.  But now it is.

It feels like something big should happen.  Like the Publisher’s Clearing House guy should appear at my door with a huge check and a “CONGRATULATIONS!!” and balloons.

Or just the check, that would be cool.

I wasn’t in a big hurry to go get my “new life” – since 99% of the old one was just peachy. (Yep, I just distilled an entire person down to 1% – I went there.) The missing “chunk” is more like a tiny crumb. (Yep, a crumb – I went there, too.)  So it isn’t all that stunning for the change to feel like a non-change.

A super-expensive, pain-in-the-a** non-change.

So – rather than a bang – or a whimper,  I guess the appropriate celebration is to dust myself off (crumbs be gone) and get on with things.

Maybe I should upgrade my jammies to celebrate – monkeys are so last week.  What do you think?  Cougars?