All right. Officially the weekend. It was a good week, lots of wonderful sun and peace of mind. I felt like I was finally getting the hang of taking advantage of “holes” in my schedule, relaxing into them and really savoring the break. Until Friday, when I finally heard back from my lawyer. She got a letter from my husband’s attorney. Apparently my husband’s idea of “buying me out of the house” is a bit different than mine. He’s offering to give me twelve thousand dollars, which I’m pretty sure is less money than I put into pansies for the front yard over the seven years we lived there. You have got to be kidding me.
I got this information last night, when I was supposed to be relaxing and enjoying a stupid movie with a friend. What I ended up doing was sobbing hysterically on half a dozen answering machines, trying desperately to connect with someone who had a better idea for my next step than I did. My best idea was to go over to the house, throw rocks at the windows until he came out, then take off my shoe, slap him in the face with said shoe, and walk on into the house, plop myself on the couch and announce that I’d changed my mind, I wasn’t moving out.
In the end I didn’t do anything like that, of course. In the end I drove my tear stained, snot-faced self over to the theatre and hooked up with my friend and her husband for the movie. They bought me a ticket, which was really sweet. My friend and I have both been having a tough time lately, so we picked “Baby Mama”, a selection chosen for its slap stick, stupid, you’re-embarrassed-to-laugh-it’s-so-dumb qualities. It fit the bill, but I’m sure if I’d been hopped up on my usual Cherry Coke and Goobers it would have been a lot funnier. I was able to forget my divorce woe for most of the hour, and it wasn’t until I got home again that I broke down into those hopeless sobs. I tried to pray, I tried to read, I tried writing a gratitude list, but I ended up falling asleep still feeling utterly screwed.
Which turned out to be a good catalyst, after all. I woke up feeling much better, having had some great dreams involving men who aren’t my husband, and frankly, were a lot more fun in the dream than I remember my husband being. Revenge dream-sex. What could be better? I had a surprisingly good day considering my shaky emotional state – I gave a good workshop, treated myself to an artichoke with butter and Italian sausage for dinner. I’m lined up for a banana split and some popcorn with my own in-home viewing of “Chocolat” tonight. Two hours of Johnny Depp can only promise more fun dreams, I’m sure.
Somewhere in the last twenty four hours it occurred to me that although that letter doesn’t offer the settlement I want – not even something vaguely equitable, it doesn’t change my life one bit. Although initially it seemed everything was ruined, it’s really not. Nothing has changed. I’m still in the process of getting divorced. I’m still in the process of running my own business, learning to live my own life, practicing balance and enjoying walks by the river. That’s all fine for today, and today is all I’ve got. Plus a banana split.
April 27, 2008 at 12:33 pm |
fun