Visualizing The End of the Ogre Legacy

I've realized during this Ogre War that my mind often turns towards the dark side, the disastrous, towards tragedy, naturally, as if there is no other route to take. Before the hearing I tried hard to visualize the outcome I wanted, the Lawyer Lady showing up on time, the Friendly Commissioner rendering a fair and objective judgment, the verdict going in my favour. The verdict, of course, has not come down the pipeline yet, but the point is that without a lot of will power and concentration, it was very easy to fall down into the some miserable abyss where I would be punished by the universe for all eternity. I blame this partly on the fact that I'm Greek.

Nonetheless, I need to keep creating a positive outcome in my mind's eye. I need visualize opening the envelope, reading the verdict, and smiling, both at the very small amount that those greedy Ogres are awarded, and at the judgment that sends them far from my lovely blue house forevermore.


The apartment next door, inhabited currently by their Skanky-Refrigerator-Stealing Daughter, is not far enough from my lovely blue house for my tastes, and the Ogres are eyeing it because it's cheap and close by and they want to continue to War with me. My mind naturally wanders to all the misery this will cause me should the universe, for some unfathomable reason, wish to punish me so. I can't help but think that this lack of faith in the universe will bite me in the ass if I don't take corrective measures right now. I also believe that we create what we think, so here is my attempt to set my brains straight:


On June 30th, 2008, a truck will park in front of my lovely blue house at 10 am (I would say 8am, but the Ogres like to sleep in, though their anxiety might have gotten them up earlier, bleary eyed and unwashed and trembling in their Ogre boots at the thought of change). Slowly, but surely, they and their Ogre cohorts will begin carrying their crap out the front door. There will be cursing, of course, tears, recriminations. It will be a spectacle, a car crash, a bad movie that you have to watch until the end. They may even wave a hairy fist at me as I watch them from the second floor balcony. But box after box, chair after chair, sofa, bed, refrigerator, 5 cats, 1 rabbit, the truck will be filled with all their worldly possessions.

The Drunken Ass that lives across the street will yell his goodbyes and bray as if the whole thing is a big joke. The Snitch will come down to bid them adieu, flushed with relief that he will not have them as his downstairs neighbours, pleased as punch that in a few days time a funky and pleasant young woman will move in, with whom he will be happy to share the yard, gossip and cocktails. The Skanky-Refrigerator-Stealing Daughter, who moved the day before, will then show up in her SUV to take them to their new abode, and I will watch all three of them drive down my street behind the truck, take a left, and a go somewhere far enough that I don't ever have to see them again. Ok, Ash Street will do. There are plenty of other Ogres on Ash Street. They should be very happy there. Bye-bye Ogres. Y'all don't come back now.

Then the rejoicing will begin on this fine street, sage will be burnt, doves will be released, jigs will be danced, and all of us lovely people will live happily ever after in an Ogre-free neighbourhood.