Unbelievable

My pet rabbit just died. My mom took her (Inga) when I was pregnant, so had her for three years, and I had her for four years before. And last night she was, well, dismembered. By some creature. While in her well-fortified dog run/cage. Somehow. They didn’t find any of her in her home, just some fur, but they did find…pieces…in the yard. Wow. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. How sad.

I’ve been trying to figure out which of the bad things I’ve done in my past incurred the karma that seems to be ganging up on me now. I’ve pretty much settled on what it was, though it’s not like there’s anything I can do about it now–and no I am so not going to tell. Just remember the pain I caused and hope this Spring makes us even.

Though I’ve started meeting people here the trainwreckiness of my life right now makes it hard for me to make real connections. If someone asks me if I want more kids, I can’t help but think of my miscarriage, and then try to avoid the topic or, even worse, one late afternoon with wine last week, broach it, then regret that. If someone asks me what my husband does for work, I can’t help but try to explain about his visiting on weekends, travel to Europe, and how that travel was postponed for swine flu. If someone asks me why we moved here, I can’t help but want to go on about drug dealing neighbors and moves to Sweden. It seems like no topic is safe from my abiding unfortunate weirdness at the moment. When I’m on the phone with my old friends I have to ask them, “What was the last piece of bad news I shared with you so I know where to start?”

Certainly if I were to meet me at the park, as a group of nice women did today, if I were to be truly open, I would weird myself out. So I am (which is hard for me) circumspect. I try to keep the topic on the other people. I try to be mildly funny, but bland, and watch what I say, and bring up little that invites follow-up questions. Act normal. Don’t want to be too much myself. And that’s no way to live.