I wrote this last week, fucking dland servers (ok, I should get a gold membership, I know.) But I'm still gonna post it.

But in more recent news: Sunday I went for dinner with the soon-to-be-x-sister-in-law and damn, we got crazy. I adore her. She's amazing and is in a relationship a gazillion times worse than I was. We commiserate and I realize that, fuck, I'm SOOOOO much better off.

Plus, we both dished about how neither of them really do it for us sexually and we (or I should say, "I" as I'm free and clear to get it on - not that she isn't thinking about it) can't wait to have GOOD sex again.

Bring it on. Pronto. Hence my diet of lettuce, yogurt, protein (ok, and wine.)

Anyways...here's last weeks delayed entry (not even sure why I'm posting it, but, eh...except that reading it I'm so far beyond it. Every day gets better.)

Good, bad, good, bad. I realized just now that today is the 15th. Our official date of separation on our divorce papers is January the 15th (when it was done via CELL PHONE.) Oy. Anyways. One month today. Go me. Or something.

Sometimes I think I shouldn’t have called that night, maybe I’d have arrived home as planned and he’d have picked me up at LAX. Maybe I’d still be walking on eggshells and “waiting for it to happen” as I had been for months. I stupidly sometimes think maybe I just hit him at a bad moment and had I not pushed things that night we’d still be married. This, I know, is nonsense. And I’d never in a million years want to go through what I’ve been through this last month, so at least I know that in the timing of what happened I’m (hopefully) past the most painful part.

Some days are good, some bad. I have fears. Mostly about being alone for, like, oh, FOREVER and never having sex again. Seriously. I fear I’ll never have someone hold me again. That sucks. And not hold in the cheap one night stand way, but in the deeply connected “feel safe and amazing in his arms way.” (Side note: ya’ll out there that have that, hug him hard at the soonest chance, please. Appreciate it. I don’t think I always appreciated him. He didn’t appreciate me, either, however.)

Moving on.

I try not to think about such things. I think about work. Which is fucking busy, but good. And after I chatted with a coworker about my resume and she said, “you’re too smart for this place.” I realized that indeed I should not fear finding something else, even if I don’t have a degree I’ve got a great resume and I have done some freakin’ cool things in my jobs. I can do a lot. That said, I like what I’m doing these days. Lots. I like having lots of people around me. They are like “distraction drugs.”

So I focus on trips too. Spokane in Spring. Vegas in August (my 30th!!!!) Maybe New Orleans late next fall for the hell of it. Much as I want to go back to Belize I think I should wait a while before getting back on that horse, or at least not go alone, lest I spend the whole time trying to stick my head in a Central American oven the size of a ream of paper.

I also focus on getting my own place. My sister-in-law (ex-to-be) might even be my roommate for a year while her husband finishes some Super Doctor requirement in Houston. Wouldn’t that be must-see-TV style odd?

It does bother me that I’ve heard not a word from him. Then again, probably for the best because that always set me 10 steps back.

For a month out I’m doing better than maintaining and, frankly, considerably better than I ever thought. I loose sight of how fast shit went down. August was the first sign. November was our incredible vacation. Christmas and New Years I knew he was killing time. Then Grandma died. Then he wants a divorce. No wonder I have moments, really.

(PS: Apparently, according to XSIL he does miss me - especially my cooking. Hm. Also, he once callen my XSIL "baby" on the phone one night late when he'd woken her up - her hub still at the hospital - and XSIL thinks he mistook her for me in some sort of stupor. Not to be evil, but it's good to know this whole thing is effecting him in SOME way.)