"Are you gonna waste your time thinkin' how you've grown up or how you missed out…"-Jimmy Eat World

"Rob, It's Ken, he's freaking out on the phone."

That's MyWife. She hands me an oblong object with numbers. I put it to my ear: nothing. I look up, 'UH?" I don't wake well. Coherency is a train Leaving Chicago at 100 MPH. I don't live in Chicago.

"Voicemail."

It's her again, but she seems to think I'm ok now. She turns and leaves.

I fumble with the oblong communication device. It seems familiar. After 15 minutes, I work out it's usage, and master the secret codes. There's still hope for my day.

"If you're not going to do your work, you need to call someone!"

That's my boss. He's panicked, like one chicken, no head. Although if you're like me, that analogy doesn't work. The only headless chicken I know, comes wrapped in plastic at the grocery store: no panic there.

…?

That's me. "Need to call someone" rings in my head. Is it a clue? Maybe I should call this Ken guy. He sounds mad; maybe not. No, call him.

"Ken, I did my work. It should be there…" Ok now things are rolling, He's panicking over nothing. That's Ken, that's his job. I didn't know they hired people for that. I still must not know my job, thank God I have him to tell me. Or maybe my job is to bring him back down when his panic balloon starts to float off. I can do that.

That's just what I do. I deal with Ken maybe once a month. In 8 years I think I've met him twice. The big boss, that's Nancy, she's funny. Not like comical, but she's real sharp when It comes to business (woe to ye who cross her bow…), but in other areas, well, not so much.. But you didn't hear that from me.

One day she called me. Now I work in active rock, (Think Alternative meets old school metal), but I also handle Christian AC. Yeah, it's the devil and angel on each shoulder. It's Christian Rob that interests Nancy now.

"Rob, what's that song with the girl singing about her hands tied behind her back?"

No really, it is the Christian music. If it were Rock, Ken would be calling me. It's Nancy, and she's right there is a song.

"Becca Jackson, 'Hands Tied.'"

"Thanks! I tried Googling the lyrics last night, and all I got was porn sites."

"You don't say." Rule #1 at my work: Don't laugh at your boss. Nancy is making my job difficult. "Huh, you never know what will bring up porn sites these days." See? Playing stupid again. Sometimes it's my only salvation. That, and she can't see my smile over the phone. I hold the laughter until she hangs up.

That's Nancy, I see her once a year at the Christmas Party.

It's a big event. Radio personalities are there, and they usually give away cool prizes. The downside? It's in LA.

I don't know If I'm going this year. No, I don't think I'll be too busy to schmooze, I always find time for that. I just don't know if I want to go alone. I don't really care if they know I'm divorced, I just don't want to be part of the office scuttlebutt. Especially when I'm not there to hear what's being said.

"I hear he bored her to death."

"I hear she left him for another woman."

"Really? I heard it was a cub scout with jelly beans…"

"Magic beans?"

"No, just some stale Brach's beans from last Easter…"

Yeah, I don't really need that.

So I work alone. It's kind of tough, but it does allow for things like my monthly walk.

And just what did that little picture taking venture have to do with your divorce?

That's you thinking. Go ahead, ask, it's okay, it's a valid question.

I could tell you it had nothing to do with anything, but that's wrong. It had everything to do with everything, and yes, that includes my divorce. One of the things I've been talking about is moving on, getting past this. One of the ways to do that is to shake things up. I've spent 7 years building routines with MyWife. Now I need to build routines without her. When that's done, I'll be past this, or at least this aspect. Divorce is a diamond, bigger than the one she won't wear anymore, with many facets. I'm working on this facet first.

We all have a facet glaring into our eyes, be it money, kids, whatever, there's something that will make it more difficult to look into, and get over our divorce. Mine? Social network. I have none. So I either have to build one real quick, or learn to live without for a while. I've never been good at building them fast, I'm a slow-cook roast. I don't microwave contacts well. That leaves option B. That also means I should eat something. Too many food metaphors.

Yesterday's walk? That was an attempt at shaking things up. The pictures? They were just my way of trying something different. Stepping away from the routine.

It worked.

I've been doing that walk since February 06, and there's always been something wearing me down. A walk like that gives you time to think, or in my case dwell. Ever since the beginning, I've had something to dwell about. In 06, I had other problems, and this year it seems that my divorce has been taking up most of my attention.

Yesterday, I was free. I was consumed with taking pictures every mile. I even had some shots I thought would be cool to shoot, but they didn't fall out side a mile from previous pictures. Rules are rules. It was cool, it was fun, it was releasing. Yesterday was the best long walk I've had in an even longer time.

OH yeah! Before I forget! That picture of the shower? For the record, the pink color is from the camera, it's not some weird discolored mold I’m too lazy to remove. Although if it spoke, that would be cool.

"Morning mold!"

"Morning Rob."

"What are you doing today?"

"Not much, just thought I'd try to take over the soap dish."

"Hey! Good luck with that!"

"Thanks Rob."

Ok, now that's off my mind.

Yeah, when I got home, I took my shower and drank a vat of my cranberry stuff.

Cranberry stuff? Man! You ask a lot of questions! It's

2/3 cup Cranberry juice

16oz sparkling water

1/3 cup lemon juice and

1/4 cup sugar.

It's really good...and that was really weird. I'm sharing recopies. Great, log in tomorrow and I'll explain what to do about those troubling blemishes.

Shesh! There goes my macho persona I've been cultivating.

Thank God I do some cooking, I'd be screwed once MyWife left. I'm actually better than she is. At least at specialty stuff. I do the baking, and cook for company. She does/did the day to day. But that's another routine I'm going to need to get used to. Cooking for myself. It's going to seriously alter the portions.

Who knows, maybe I'll take pictures of my culinary delights. Maybe I'll even think of Ken when I'm eating chicken. Or Nancy when I Google. That's what it's all about.

I'm building anew.