I don’t have chewing gum in my hair, but I’m not ruling that out just yet, the day is very young.
I sliced my finger open while cutting an apple this morning. MMMmmmMMM extra protein in that snack. I spilled tea (sorry Andy) all over the front seat of the ‘rolla as well as my brand new purse, which smells of burnt cordura nylon (the tea was hot) and milk now…mmmMMMmmm.
Did you know? Hot liquids on fresh cuts make them BLEED oh so very much that you have to rip the half tea-soaked bandage off quickly, nearly wrenching your finger in the process to douse it with some cold water? I didn’t, before this morning. FUN ON A STICK!
But the bit that finally prompted the much needed blogging therapy this morning? The bit that makes me want to pack myself off to Australia today? The bit that is tearing my heart to pieces right now? That would be finding out my X has “gotten rid of” the Irish Rose.
I’m too old, fat, and ugly to pull off breaking down and crying in the middle of a biotech company. Or so I keep telling myself. It’s strangely holding me together much better than I thought it would.
The fucker has sold the flower business he and his adulterous campaign manager started and have obtained a BIGGER sailboat. They leave today for a “trip.” My best friend from Hawai’i called me just now to fill me in on all she knew…which wasn’t much. Only what I’ve written above.
I’m surprised how calm and controlled I was when I first heard the news. Now though, I’m fuming.
He ranted, raved, and railed on me about HIS boat -- I never liked sailing after all, ever…or so he told me, so he was keeping HIS boat. He got half MY house, but he got to keep HIS boat. Because he was going to fix it up and sail to Italy, or something. La la la la….must learn to let it go. Like he’s let the boat go. To someone else. Or something else (the dump? The jury is out but she’s digging for more information tonight).
I crave knowing, but I don’t know how healthy it is for me to find out. My Irish Rose. My beautiful Irish Rose. He said it was our child. Our 7.5 ton kid. We used to joke about it. She took enough energy to be another person. She definitely had the personality to be her own person. God, what if they change her name? Oooommmmm….letting it go…
I’m not feeling all that well right now.
3 comments:
Ouch, ouch, ouch! sounds like you had a bad day for sure. Hope the weekend is wonderful to make up for it.
I'm so sorry about all your ouchies! Finger ouchies and heart ouchies.
This too shall pass :)
I wonder if you could hunt down who he sold it to and maybe buy it back. Would that ever be a consideration? What a jackass. I'm so sorry.
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