I don’t know why I swear at my computer to the extent that I do. I have a tendency to get impatient with how slow and uncooperative it can be, but I’m not really certain if yelling ‘come on, motherfucker!’ raises its processing speed or makes it any more productive. Maybe I am really telling myself to ‘come on, motherfucker!’ in the hopes that this will push me somewhere I would not go were I not there to yell at myself. I’m just relieved there are no children around. Not really relieved that I do not have children. Because not having children is one the biggest regrets of my life. I like to think I am not the kind of person who would call my children ‘motherfuckers.’ And if I did call them that, that they would have the sense to not take me seriously. If I could have had children who did not take me seriously, I could have been a truly great parent. I’m convinced of it. Maybe the world is a better place now that I have not had children, especially children who took me seriously. The thing is, I would have taken them seriously. I say this not as a speculation, but as a statement that is evidence-based. Based upon how seriously I take each being that dwells in my aquarium. If it wasn’t so late in my life, my caretaking of tropical fish could have been great preparation for caretaking of children. Except for the part about me forgetting to feed them. Except for the part about one of them dying every couple of months. That… I know I could not have handled that. I think about that a lot these days as I ponder getting a dog. Vacillating between a couple of challenges. It would not be good to have a dog that outlives me. And it would not be good to have a dog that I outlive. Stuck in this zone, between doglessness and childlessness. It’s not a place I would recommend.