| OCR Text |
Show Motherlunge a novel 149 unidentified organica-I cultivated a list of grievances and regrets. I worked on the list the way other people run the lint roller over their clothes before going to work, or pat their pockets to check for their keys, or wash their hands over and over again. It was part of my daily hygiene, my ritual. Jack was taking advantage of Pavia during a vulnerable time. She should have divorced him, cleanly and finally, while she had the chance. I should join the Peace Corps. If I joined the Peace Corps, I would be a stronger and more generous person-not to mention more career-focused-plusvpeople would miss me a lot. The fact that I do not enjoy talking to people I don't know well forever precludes my success in investigative journalism, human rights activism, and documentary filmmaking. Being self-centered is also an obstacle. I am like my mother, extravagantly unequipped for life in the first or third world. Pavia's love for X. is excessive. It was overparenting as a distraction device, X. being the fulcrum of her and Jack's seesaw codependency. Or it was my fault, that is, a misperception. What would I know of excessive love? Jack really was taking advantage of Pavia. She seemed all right now, but as she used to say that Alva used to say whenever she (Pavia) was laughing too hard, "It'll end in tears." It will end in tears, I thought to myself, walking along behind General in the park, the mud sucking at the bottom of my shoes. The dog paused and crouched; I stopped too, waiting for his shit to fall, my outstretched hand clammy inside the plastic bag. In my |
