In the anti-Christian world that we now live in, the academicians made a noisy point of replacing the Christian temporal markers BC (Before Christ) and AD (Anno Domini) that we used to use to define historical dates. At first, they replaced them with BCE (Before Christian Era) and CE (Christian Era) but still not satisfied with any relationship to Jesus remaining, they repurposed the acronyms into Before Common Era and Common Era. Well, the enemies of God could be expected to do no less.
But maybe soon we’ll be back to BC and AD. But the underlying time markers will stand for Before COVID and After the Destruction. After all, historians of the future will decide that western civilization’s self-immolation reached its climax with the decision to wreck the industrial, commercial and social basis of the western world for the sake of running the COVID play book the way they did.
But in my own humble way I am also embarking on a new epoch. The divisions will be designated BP and AP, Before Puppy and After Puppy. In the waning days of the BP era, I have before me a solid week when Camera Girl will still be at my beck and call. After that I’ll be abandoned to my fate, left to fend for myself and survive on any scraps that the very important canine deigns to leave in her bowl. I’ll probably lose my spot on the couch and be forced to sleep in the shed or the garage. I’ll be kept around as a maintenance man or security guard for the estate. My main employment will probably be sanitation worker armed with a shovel and a pail. How the mighty hath fallen.
But this week is my last hurrah. Yesterday the kids and grandkids were over and I incinerated the burgers and dogs and the kids went into the already very cold pool water one last time and played some wiffle ball and shot some pool. And we all ate too much ice cream and drank too much lemonade one last time before they settled into school.
So now I can relax and enjoy the unseasonably hot weather and rearrange my priorities in preparation for the rest of the year. And hopefully I come up with an efficient and productive schedule for myself. It’s badly needed. I am a disorganized man.
But even if I don’t completely revolutionize my schedule into a perfection of photog-ergic productivity, I intend to finish this week with the satisfaction of having done whatever I do or don’t do on my own terms. For the next few days, I’m the master of my soul and the captain of my destiny. Or something that sounds like that.
So, if I end up wasting the time and achieving nothing and leaving myself in an awful spot, I have no one to blame but myself. And to my mind that is exactly what I want. I will have clear cause and effect relationship between what I do and what ends up happening to me. I will have established my own example of free will at work in the world. A perfect laboratory of volition. The immovable object (me) meeting the irresistible force (the full catastrophe that is my life). It’ll be my own damn fault. What man could ask for more than that?