How to Club a Baby Seal to Death

Breaking off a long-term relationship with somebody is a lot like… It’s like… Well, breaking up with somebody is a lot like clubbing a baby seal to death.

Most normal people are not really going to want to club that baby seal. It is not anything to look forward to. It is unseemly. You just know that it’s going to wind up messy.

Okay, sure, there are likely a few sickos, a certain breed of masochist running around out there loose on the streets with no supervision who relishes this sort of opportunity whenever it arises. Who see it as their big chance to show off their manliness, to have their revenge on life, to take out their accumulated frustrations (“THIS! IS! FOR! SUZIE! REJECTING! ME! IN! NINTH! GRADE!”) on that baby seal.

But we are not talking about such outliers. No, not today. We are talking about your average, well-adjusted member of society who, it just so happens, finds himself or finds herself in a position where it has become necessary to, you know… club a baby seal to death. 

Part 4: A Misanthrope Vying for Affection

+ But… But noo-o-o-o!

+ But ye-e-e-es.

+ But… But I’m all alone now!

+ Oh, I’m sorry. Are you and I having a conversation of some sort?

+ Listen to me! I am all alone in the world! 
+ Alone? Not a chance. There are 7 billion other people in the world.

+ But… But you don’t understand! I don’t like any other people!

+ Statistically speaking, you will probably meet other people you like.

My Thank-You Gift to You

I have something I would like to share with you today.

Part 3: Hyde, Jekyll-ized

The crazy bitch that I am, I’ve got a vacuum cleaner’s got a headlight on it. I never even knew it. Presumably, this is a light for cleaning house after it gets dark, right?

But don’t tell me. Do not give the game away. I’ve got to catch up with these little things I’ve been missing for so long… while I have been the crazy bitch who’s victimizing Dana.

And this little switch right here – push it up, push it down – this here’s the on/off switch. Momma didn’t raise no fool. You push it like this and, excuse me – YOU PUSH IT LIKE THAT AND GET THE EXPECTED RESULTS! Would you look at that? I might’ve figured all this out already! What was it we were paying that housekeeper for?

I’m talking back in the days when I was victimizing Dana.

Part 2: Awaiting Spirits and Provisions

Okay, what next?

I’ll say I walk back into my house, but this is a lie. It is a damn lie. I do not walk – not me, myself, I, Katy – because Katy is a wife, Katy is a mother, Katy is but one component of a family. This crying humanoid-ish thing, left behind on a curb, this thing that walks into my house, it is none of those things.

And “my house” – well, that is not really true either, is it? My house, ahh, you should have seen it before! My house was full to bursting with toys and cats and photographs, with squeaky rubber balls and boxes and mountains of shoes. But this here house does not contain a one of those things. This here house is huge and it is cavernous and it is practically empty.  

You could not even lose your keys in this house.