That's right, before it was mostly just me. Something has changed now. I think I sucked my spouse into my life damaging delusion, because all she can talk about now is moving abroad too. She's always been a bit partial to my ideas, but now it's almost like she's weighing those irrational options just as much as me.
- Option 1: Live out our lives in peaceful bliss satisfying our Euro drug use with British chocolate, Spanish wine, and a occasional baguette here in the States.
- Problem with this is of course the more drugs you take, the higher your tolerances... eventually it will become impossible to self-medicate and it's not likely to be effective, nor financially possible.
Option 2: Run far, far away and live in a cardboard box somewhere hoping immigration never figures it out.
- As great as this sounds, and they do give all the homeless free puppies in Brussels, it's probably not the best parenting.
Option 3: Show up somewhere, renounce citizenship, apply for a Schengen visa and never come back to the states.
- Honestly... I'm not past doing this.... We will list this one under our "last resort" list.
Option 4: Find a legal way to get in to a foreign country.
- There are none. At Least not for retarded farm girls like myself.
Option 5: Go to school and pray despite not being all that religious.
- Pursuing this... I just don't have a crap load of patience, but I'm working on that.
Option 6: Get pregnant while abroad.
- Baby tourism... Hmmmm..... I'll think on this one.... it's not a question of if, it's a question of how?
Option 7: Divorce my spouse and marry someone abroad.
- Don't think we both haven't thought about it..... It's just we don't really like anyone else all that much.
Option 8: Commit a heinous crime and get incarcerated abroad.
- What does it say that foreign prisons seem more enjoyable than living in America?
Option 9: Become a missionary.
- The whole "I don't believe in God" thing sort of gets in the way. Though I'm willing to pretend.
Of course we're taking suggestions for the list.
So back to the matter at hand. I've done so well at convincing Shannon of going, I've sucked her in. Her hopes and dreams are now riding on a company transfer. Of course we both know, if we're honest, that's not likely to happen. It's like playing the lotto though... for a moment you get to dream. Sadly I don't know what we're both going to do when the dream isn't realized, and we're still here with nothing but a refrigerator full of imported cheese and wine. I'm worried... it's a virus, the worse disease ever, a mental mind-fuck which totally screws up the individual, and I'm spreading it like a lesbian monkey with a STD. In fact I recommend that readers stop reading what I write immediately in fear of coming down with it yourself. I suppose I've said too much already, and I must now go crawl up in the fetal position in the corner of my Euro shower with it's rotating LED light show, a bottle of Spanish Porto all the while I listen to George Micheal playing out of 88.3 streaming from Brussels. George Micheal?