Trial Run

Well, he moved out today, my husband that is. With tears in his eyes, he said he thinks he knows what he needs to work on and is hopeful that we'll reunite sooner rather than later. He hugged me and he left.

I'm also optimistic, but I can't let Hope prevent me from developing Plans B & C that might become necessary.

It was certainly sad, but I'm surprised at how quickly that feeling faded. I'm not sure why yet. Is it because I think he'll come back? Or because this is what I really want?

I lost my passion for the stay-at-home mom gig a long time ago. It's possible that I created this drama just to force myself into taking stock of my skills and and desires and deciding what I want to do with my life professionally. Not to say that my complaints about my husband aren't perfectly valid, but my timing for such a strong move might have more to do with me than "us." Because, in actuality, I could have endured our state of affairs indefinitely. I can take a lot and I'm forgiving by nature, but not completely. While I have a great capacity to forgive, I'm terrible about bringing shit back up when it serves my argument or the point I'm trying to make. That's something that I'll be working on during this marital hiatus. I don't dredge up the past to be hurtful, but patterns can't be ignored.

So, tonight I'm going to get drunk, and watch Saturday Night Live. My own little party. Tomorrow, I'm putting every tv in the garage, something I suggested we do at the beginning of last summer. My husband was not on-board, even after I explained that we ALL use television as a distraction. Well, I guess that's what everyone uses them for, but we'd become a little too sucked in - and we don't even have CABLE! Just hundreds of movies, which I think do an even better job of creating illusions that make real life suck in comparison to the barrage of dynamic characters and happy endings.

The TVs are gone... and I can't wait. I'll just hate the heavy lifting part. Beyond that, I'll probably just be making a lot of brain-storming lists, to do lists, etc. Oh, and I'll be on the phone a LOT because this is going to be surprising news and everyone I know is going to want to counsel me. I'd rather blog to be honest. I don't think anyone can tell me something I haven't thought about at this point. But, since my mother happened to call tonight, I can expect some phone calls from others.

But know this. I'm not unhappy and I'm not scared. I can't speak for my husband, but the changes that I'm going to make can only benefit me and my state of mind, with or without him.

Back in the Game

Fuck it! I've had a couple of blogs and have given them all up for various reasons - but those reasons can all be boiled down to one thing: my husband. Lately, I've been questioning whether he has a role in my future, and that's a tough pill to swallow.

I'm 36 with three children who will miss him if we part ways. It isn't a light decision. It's nauseating. But I'm not sure how much I can endure for the sake of our illusion. Do I live without sex or fool around on the side (the sex thing is my fault... he disgusts me and I can't fuck him unless I'm drunk). I gave up on the term Making Love a long time ago. He has a porn habit and the things he looks at gross me out. Girls with cum dripping off their faces? Sorry, it creeps me out.

Now I feel like I should qualify that. I'm not some uptight person. Honestly. I've never felt (nor been accused of being) uptight. I've sucked a hundred dicks and I never was sloppy enough to get my eyelashes glued to my eyebrow. Now that I'm 36, my drive has accelerated. I can't discuss the things I dream about because it would be exhaustive. Every guy I see plays a starring role in my unbridled and subconscious nightly cinematic features, except my husband.

He's the ticket-taker.

Getting divorced terrifies and excites me. I've been a stay at home mom for over a decade. I began looking for jobs back in January - not so I could leave my husband, but for health insurance. No luck. I'm only qualified to type, organize shit, and fire people. And I'm notoriously late. Not by much... five, ten minutes tops. I am good though, but that's a hard sell when you've been volunteering for the PTA for ten years. Starting my own business makes much more sense than trying to conform to rules that have never appealed to me.

Maybe I should invent an alarm clock that gets even louder and more annoying when you press the snooze button. If you get out of bed on the first warning, you can shower to Moonshadow... but if you press snooze, you get Rush Limbaugh.... press it again and it's Glenn Beck... press it again and it's Jerry Springer - which is just a series of bleeps, much like how an alarm clock is supposed to sound in the first place.

I have much to think about. Thanks for listening.

Peace,

That Girl