Always Look at the Bright Side of the Moon

I'm burned out on the negative feelings. Truly, completely burned out. If you knew me in meatspace (as a few of my very small handful of readers know), you would know that I am a generally positive, upbeat, gregarious person. I can't stand rereading this blog because I sound so goddamn whiny, but I know that getting it down here makes it more likely that I will get it out of my system. Also, I am utterly moved and supported by the comments you make and can't believe anyone would sift through this crap. If I ever have a cold, refreshing beverage with any of the folks that read this, I think each of you would be gobsmacked at how much better company I am when I'm not this self-indulgent. Like 95% less emo.

Yesterday wasn't a good day, as B came by to collect some of his things. He was completely disorganized and had to borrow something to carry his stuff in. I couldn't bear to watch him pack up shit, so I retired to another room. He would call out questions and comments and I answered them, quietly and discreetly sobbing. He came into the office and I was wiping away tears and he asked "what's wrong?" And, just like that, sorrow gave way to rage. I told him to just finish what he was doing and leave me alone. He got very quiet, sat down in the living room and we had a spectacularly awkward moment. I got through it as best I could and, of course, an hour later, he called to say "I'm really sorry." I said "thanks" in a quiet voice and got off the phone.

What I really want to know is what, exactly, is he sorry for? That I am in pain and prone to ridiculous bouts of tears? That he trashed our relationship, in which I had so much faith, beyond repair? That he never made any significant attempt at trying to repair it? Would knowing the answers to these questions help me move forward? I don't know. I don't think so.

Today was bizarre -- no less than three people got in touch to report that they, too, are ending long term relationships. I think that there is an element of misery loves company for them and a need to connect with someone going through the same thing, except I don't love company on this. I don't like to rehash hurt and what not and it bums me out to hear about others embarking on this shitcoaster of a ride. One of those who contacted me actually hooked up with her husband at our wedding. So sad, but again, I am clearly not the only person dealing with the demise of a relationship. Not a unique snowflake. Not yours.

On the plus side (hooray! silver linings!), I finally closed today on the refi and own this place by myself. I refi'ed for obvious reasons (sole title, etc.) and also took out a cushion for a future condo assessment and some security. I have allocated a small part of that for a ridiculously decadent trip(s) somewhere (Vegas! AB? Hello!) and a kickass new purse. I also intend to spoil a few folks over the holidays.

Another milestone today - I figured out that B is finally realizing how ill-equipped he is to run his life, as I surely ran ours during our marriage. In an act of karma that can only be defined as spectacular, B had an issue with his new place. He has had possession of it for less than a week. On Thanksgiving Day, he came home to a condo peppered with celery, carrots, potato skins, cranberries, etc. Turns out, his upstairs neighbor has a problem with her newly renovated kitchen (and garbage disposal), which decided to drain into B's place. This soaked his floors and even travelled to the unit beneath his. Exactly one person will understand the funny in this, but IT WAS COMING FROM THE HOUSE! THE FURY OF A THOUSAND ANGRY CRANBERRIES AND ROOT VEGETABLES!

You think that maybe, perhaps maybe, he should have spent a little bit of time researching his purchase instead of buying it from a casual friend's boyfriend, who claimed he had a cash offer of $25K more than B's offer (but was holding off on account of B). That, gentle readers, is what we who follow real estate like to call BULLSHIT. But see, in my past wifetime, I would have been the one that did the due diligence and known things like the upstairs neighbor recently did a massive remodel of her condo, including relocating the kitchen. B called today to ask if he could hire me to deal with it. I gave him the names of some kickass real estate attorneys. I thought that was generous. I'm helping him with a single issue because it has some residual benefits for me. I'm not staying on until my permanent replacement learns the job.

Resisting the urge to be punitive and bitchy is hard. I am moderately successful, but I think doing better than many other folks in my situation, all things told.

I once told a very bitter opposing counsel that we needed to begin and end every conversation with something fun and playful. In that case, we spoke baseball. Heretofor, I will close with something funny. Today, I bask in the knowledge that my anal retentive, soon-to-be-ex husband came "home" to a place reeking of bad Thanksgiving castaways (including cranberries, which he positively hates) and has to now replace his hardwoods, not knowing the first thing about making a claim against another person's homeowner's insurance. However, because I will probably end up hand holding him through that, I'll just note that Pam Anderson and Kid Rock filed for divorce today after a long, three month marriage. It is almost like the institution of marriage has no meaning these days -- thank God the gays aren't fucking it up for everyone else.