During The Worst Trip to La Reunion Ever, I became addicted to a game called “Bubble Bricker.” It’s like Tetris, except slightly more addictive.
Since I have been trying (rather unsuccessfully) to “take it easy” and “recovery from surgery,” I have been again at it with the Bubble Bricker. For some reason, playing this Tetris-like game is jogging unconscious memories of my ex-husband, who was a Tetris whiz. We used to be very competitive about the Tetris. And as a result, I have been waking up at 4.30am each day to the sound of my own screams as I keep dreaming that some Governmental-Regulatory-Body-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named has sentenced me to 20 years locked in a room with my ex for absolutely no reason whatsoever.
Except as we are to be locked up, he has brought a 20 year-long to-do list, and 20 years’ worth of books to read, and I show up for incarceration with a couple of Smiths CDs and a single first-edition of To The Lighthouse. Each time I have this rotten dream, I wake up screaming at the point that my former spouse looks at me and my single book disapprovingly and tsk-tsks, saying: Semper Paratus, Meredith Ann. Semper Paratus.
This is all very unfortunate because I really like this silly Tetris game. And I would really just like to listen to the Smiths, and read Virginia Woolf, and play Bubble Bricker in peace.
(via This Charming Charlie)