Serial Boxing

I'm concerned. It started as a slight nagging, but I think by the end of the hour, I was taking notes. It's really quite a shock. I've been trying to find myself after the divorce, and now according to Criminal Minds I'm a serial killer.

Huh. My folks always said I worked well with my hands…

It all started a few months ago. A divorce dredges up emotions like silt. Everything you thought you knew gets lost in the muck and new things rise to the surface. Maybe it's the fear of being alone, maybe it's the body of a high school bully.

You've given your last wedgie…

For me it was the former. Last I'd heard all my bullies were still alive and kicking up dirt. They're in construction--so to speak.

But once the muck gets raked, it's too late to stop the things from floating around. That's when the team gets called in. They start investigating. They want to know what happened, who's to blame, and how to punish the guilty. In my marriage, they've tossed around lots of ideas, but they're mostly just scratching their heads. All they can do for now is wait, hoping to learn more when it happen again.

I'm not really on board with the whole wait thing. Happens again? Uhm guys, why am I wandering around at 3am in a miniskirt and a blonde wig winking at every sailor who passes? I'm rediscovering myself? I thought that's what college was about? Divorce too? Oh great…

So I'm waiting for things to finalize, and in the meantime I'm learning. Learning to see what happens after divorce strikes, learning to look for the warning signs, learning how to properly clean a crime scene. Wow! This is educational.

According to the Criminal Minds team, some unsubs want to be caught. I think that's how I was.

"Hi, my name is--"

"Great! Let's get married!"

Ok, I wasn't that bad. In fact I wasn't really looking for marriage I don't think. Oh I knew I wanted it, but just because I kept a bouquet and rings in my utility belt at all times with tin cans tied to my butt, doesn't mean I was asking for it. I just didn't want any confusion. I was prepared.

"Is that a cake topper in your pants or are you just glad to see me?"

Criminal Minds thinks most serial killers are prepared. I wonder how many were boy scouts? It would help with tying knots and--well, anyway…

Marriage and divorce are the same way. Be prepared. The problem is, how can I be prepared for divorce? It's kind of pessimistic to carry her across the honeymoon suite threshold with my summons hanging out.

"I told you, I'm the sever, you're the respondent."

It really ruins the mood. So how do you be prepared and yet remain optimistic? I mean I don't know, I'm asking. How do you do it? I'm gathering my kit together cuz I want to know next time.

That's only part of what you work through during divorce time. The rest of the time is spent in rediscovery. You spend your time trying to find out who you are, why are you here, what's next, and how do you set the timer on the coffee pot. I did that. I asked the questions, I interrogated the witnesses, and I weeded out the suspects. I narrowed things down, and I can tell you two things for sure:

1. It wasn't Professor Plum with the nose tweezers in the B&D dungeon.
2. It's not you, it's me.

Yeah, according to Criminal Minds it is me. Whoda thought? But that's what they came up with. I took notes when they gave their profile. They said the unsub was a perfectionist, lived alone, worked out, and was incredibly good looking (ok, they said narcissistic, but just because you love you, doesn't mean the mirror can't too.)

That's Me! MyUnwife is right: everything IS my fault!

So I now know who I am. How do I use that to my advantage once I begin dating? Do I tell the girl up front, or do I let her find out later.

"Why do your tomatoes grow so well in the back yard?"

"It's all in the soil."

"what are those mounds?"

"Just fertilizer."

"Oh."

If she loves me, she'll understand. Or maybe she'll do what we all do, look away. I hope not. I'd like somebody who loves me for me, not who they want me to be. Somebody who'll help me in my hobbies and add her own special flair.

"I got you a surprise, Rob. Remember the guy who always smeared your glasses with his spit-finger? He's in the freezer."

"Oh baby, you're the greatest!"