April 4, 2010 I woke up this morning at 4:47 on the dot….again. As I laid in a somewhat familiar bed, in a somewhat familiar place- I started to wonder, how in the hell did I get here? I’d like to consider myself a fairly successful 29 year old woman. Independent, smart, smoking hot, married- wait no, separated, 8 months pregnant, living at home with my folks, sleeping in a room next to my 87 year old grandma who smells like pee…? Okay I take back all that wonderful stuff I said in the beginning. I might be a loser.
I’ll start at the beginning. No, maybe I’ll start where I am. Currently, I’m sitting in the burbs in Anytown, USA, watching Law and Order Criminal Intent-I love Goren, and crocheting a blanket for my daughter. This time last year I was in the Big City! Living my fabulous, Big City, single gal life. So how did I get here? The most obvious answer is on a plane. If only it were that simple. In a nutshell- I met a man (I use the term loosely), got married, pregnant, installed spyware on his phone to catch him “Tiger Woodsing” me, kicked him out, continued to track and spy on him, moved home (which happens to be 1,000 miles away from the Big City) and sat on Mom and Dad’s couch to watch Law and Order Criminal Intent and crochet a baby blanket. And that’s how I got here. More or less….
So the waiting game begins. Waiting for the baby and the day when I can see my vagina again. Waiting to go back to work. Waiting for my husband (a term I also use loosely, as he has a girlfriend) to hit the roof when he finds out I’ve moved out of state. Did I mention I didn’t tell him? Waiting for the mud to fly in family court. Waiting to start over. Waiting for something witty to come out of this blinking cursor. You get the picture.
April 6, 2010
Apparently I had writers block yesterday- because apparently I’m a writer. Ohhh but I have no shortage of material this morning. When I decided to start this blog 2 days ago I emailed a rough draft to my brother and a few other friends to get some feedback. My brother told me I sounded to “Carrie-like”. What the heck does that mean?? I happen to like the way I wrote it. He said I needed to write it as me. So girl, get ready for the f-bombs and the trash talking! You want it to be me? Ok Big Brother you got me!
I was talking to one of my BF’s this morning, he told me about a dream he had that I had to share- So our crew was at his old apartment hanging out. We’re all laughing, talking and of course drinking. Ahhh, drinking. I miss drinking. I could go for a bloody mary right now. Nice and spicy. Anyway, somewhere in the course of the evening my “husband” shows up. And so the fun really begins! My “husband” pulls out a hammer. (Pause here for a dramatic effect). Uh, yeah, a hammer. My BF then pulls out a BIGGER hammer and they proceed to hammer sword fight! I love a good hammer sword fight. BF knocks “husbands” hammer out of his hand and starts beating the crap out of him! I of course am saying nothing. Just watching as this whole pummeling is happening. One of the friends says, “Look, we either gotta kill this fool or leave because the police are coming.” And then he wakes up. Damn. I wonder how that would have ended had he not woke up….
Speaking of waking up. I woke up around 3 this morning to what sounded like crumpling paper bags. I’m pretty sure it was paper bags. I am even more sure that my grannie was taking her pissy diapers and putting them in these paper bags and hiding them in random corners of her room. And boy was I right. How unmistakable the smell of 87 year old pee seeping out of her room into mine. I have to figure out a plan to put a stop to this. Newborn pee and geriatric pee cannot live in the same house happily.
April 7, 2010
Maybe I'm ungrateful or just love punishment. Quite frankly I don't know and don't care. I have been at Mom and Dad’s for a week “relaxing”. This whole “relaxing” thing is for lazy old people- I hate it, it sucks a big one. Can someone teach a person how to relax? Or is this just something lazy people are born with- the ability to relax. If I don't start working soon, I am going shove my head in my Grannys diaper pail just to give me something to do.
On another note, I met with a divorce lawyer today. An experience I am still processing. I liked the Lawyer, he seemed very knowledgeable and sympathetic. But I guess the reality of my situation started really sinking in. I am getting a DIVORCE. Which I suppose isn’t the most terrible thing in the world. Relationships end. People (men mostly) cheat. So why did I start crying in his office? I don’t think it was the divorce as much as it was the baby. The words “terminate parental rights” came up. This man, who knows not much about me or my situation, wants to terminate my “husbands” parental rights. Not only wants to but can. I had no idea that this is what I had signed up for. Divorce is dirty. It’s all about timing and strategy and relinquishing control. Hmmm, maybe that’s where I have a problem, letting go of the control. This process has shown me that you cannot live your life or make decisions based on what someone else may or may not do. All YOU can do is what YOU can do. So there is no funny twist today. Nothing witty to say. Just a lot of reflecting on what I want. How do I want this to end? Two months ago I had a clear concise plan. I knew I had to get myself in a position to move and take care of my baby. I knew it would be difficult but I would do it. I could see a year from then. Nestled in my little apartment, having a glass of wine while my baby is sleeping. It was all this crap in the middle I couldn’t see through. The divorce, visitation, moving on. And here I am in the middle. The middle I couldn’t see, I’m in. And that scares the shit out of me.