My British Hunting Trip

Had a nice but challenging weekend in London. Nice because of the people I saw (which in the grand scheme of things is the most important), and challenging because I came up against some of the least attractive and most destructive parts of my psyche.



I'm going to remain purposely vague here, but suffice it to say that my life transformation from overweight, handicapped bachelor to fit, responsible married man - though highly successful in most terms - is sometimes proving challenging in psychological terms. Often in ways that I don't expect. The long and short of it is that I've managed to mostly cage the beast of EXCESS in my life, but every once in a while it breaks out and I have to chase it down and put it back. And most of this weekend was spent running all over central London (literally) hunting its big, bad, ugly ass down, tossing it back in the slammer and then doing damage control. Didn't leave much time for anything else.



The damage is controlled - no one was permanently injured - but it pretty much ruined my weekend except for serving to remind me of my role as zookeeper/game warden. And reminding me that I need to find alternative outlets for the beast's needs besides potentially destructive excess. Because I've come too far to let it take control again.



Thanks for tolerating my purposeful obfuscation of the exact turn of events this weekend. That way hopefully you can relate to it better in your own way as well.