TGIF! Weekend’s Here! It’s Miller TIme. I’m exhausted from the week and facing a weekend of peace and quiet.
With a lump in my throat.
The Kid is getting picked up any minute and I’m looking at a weekend to do whatever I want. I could go out with friends, read, exercise, any number of chores or get my nails done. “You’re so lucky you get a break!”, The Hens will cluck with envy.
Lucky? Really?
Lucky that The Kid is going on a double date with The Ex, The New Girlfriend and her daughter.
Lucky that my ‘down time’ should be spent lazing around the house, going to swimming lessons, maybe a romantic dinner out with the hubby...And I’m alone.
Lucky that The Hens and The BFF are likely too busy doing all those things with their families to hang out with me.
Lucky that The Kid is bugging the living shit out of me because he’s anxious and excited and ready to go but The Ex is late, sucking fumes on the Cross Bronx Expressway in the Friday night exodus.
What a Difference a Day Makes
It’s now Saturday morning. You know what? I’m cool. Dude, I’m better than cool. I don’t care about ANY of that stuff. Or at least I don’t care about it in a way that is gonna have me circling the drain.
I’ve been playing a game of ‘Would You Rather’ with myself all morning.
Would I rather...
Be living in a house alone together with The Kid and a husband-roommate?
No
Be constantly working around this or that issue that will never get resolved because the Ex and I have fundamentally different points of view?
No
Have The Kid learn about relationships from two bickering assholes?
No
Spend my days and nights wishing I was with someone else... or worse yet, wishing I WAS someone else?
HELL NO!
The single life is still only a few months old, but the marriage has been dead for a while. If it ever was truly alive to begin with. I finally officially filed, like at the courthouse, February 14th. I know. I’m hilarious, right? It’s okay. The Ex shares my shitty sense of humor. Comforting to still have that in common.
I guess I have to realize that these things take time. I’m a rusher by nature. I like results. I picture something that I want and want it now...Not unlike my five year old. Hmmm. (Mental Note: Discuss childish behavior in therapy.) I really want to get to this state of Perfect Divorce-Best Single Mom Ever-Most Wanted MILF (or is it Cougar?)-Happily Ever After long before I’ve earned it. The bad days will dwindle to hours, hours to minutes until they are no more. They will be replaced with gratitude for what I’ve got, not lamenting what I’ve lost.
Because, like, how do you lose something that was probably never even yours to begin with?
