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Second try
polydad
No, desire's much more general than that. Sex is good, sex is nice, and sometimes you want soup.

Newly rephrased question: We can get anything we want. How do we decide what to want?

I'm reading a fascinating book at the moment; "Fuzzy Dice" by Paul Di Filippo. The protagonist, also named Paul, can travel to other universes with a flick of his yo-yo. But he gets to whatever new universe he was thinking of. Problem is he forgets to include factors like "I want to end up in a universe where my brain works."

Our lives are based on a hell of a lot of assumptions we never think about. How can we go about identifying them?Edit: Once we've identified them, how do we pick and choose a set of mutually supporting assumptions so as to create a workable life from them? End Edit

best,

Joel. Who should learn to limit himself to one question per post, but hasn't gotten there yet.

An old-fashioned Crank Start
polydad
So I've got stuff to do, it's nearly ten AM, and I'm still sitting here in my bathrobe. I guess I'll bitch to you-all for a few minutes, then grab some pants and go in search of food, a shower, and sanity, probably in that order.

I've got a precursor headache. My head doesn't hurt *now*; it's just telling me that without further warning at some point it might decide to fall off, roll over in a corner, and hide. And it'll have my eyeballs, as well as my glasses, so at that point I might as well lie down and wait for it to find me. Neither are my bowels happy, but that's much less specific, just sort of a bloated feeling.

And I have to go to the bank to get a check for my new apartment, and then go to Office Max to fax something to my Dad to sign, and write an email to the Evil Ex telling her I want custody of my sons back, NOW please. She will then of course say NO and start taking it out on them, because if they do come live with me she a.) no longer has unilateral direct control over them, and b.) has to pay child support. Okay, she's a stereotypical Evil Bitch, and you've heard all that before; sorry to bore you. I'd have a much easier time getting ready for the battle if I didn't know it was my eleven-year-old son who's going to get it on the chin.

I also have to address points of more trivial logistics, about this weekend and Thanksgiving. This weekend, Gabe has dance rehearsals both Saturday and Sunday, and Zack has Japanese class on Sunday. I'm incapable of being in Hempstead, NY and Trenton, NJ simultaneously, so I'll have to find some substitute. It suddenly occurs to me that I've got a friend I can ask a favor of; maybe he'll take Gabe to Hempstead on Sunday while I take Zack to his Japanese class. See how helpful you're being? I'd never have thought of that without you for an audience.

Thanksgiving I want to take the boys to my sister's place in Mt. Vernon. Anyone in the DC area who'd like to get together, say, Friday lunchish give me a shout and we'll see what we can arrange.

Oh -- and somewhere in here is finishing up the wiring job in Delaware, and starting the new job stocking shelves in a department store in the middle of the night. And persuading the guy in Delaware to write a check, too; he's fairly honorable, so it shouldn't be too terribly hard.

And I need to start planning Life In The New Place, starting with parties. Housewarming Saturday evening November 20th, anyone? Let me know if you can make it to Highland Park, NJ, and whether you need crash space.

Okay. A deep breath, a pair of pants, and then Breakfast. One, two, three...

Go,

Joel