even harder than I thought

My first weekend out of the house was even harder than I thought. But I don’t know what I expected. What could I expect? This is all brand new to me. I’ve never done this before, which begs the question: do I ever want to do this again?

Ask me now and the answer is a resounding: Hell no!

Which begs another question: Do I even want to consider another serious relationship…ever?

I had my doubts about marriage before now, and after this, well, let’s just say it hasn’t really improved my opinion much.

Probably too early to be even thinking about that sort of thing anyway. I’m not just going to run out and meet someone just to meet someone, just so “I won’t be alone.” blah blah blah. That seems  ill-advised, if you ask me.

And I know what you’re thinking: I didn’t ask you. Too bad. You’re getting my opinion anyway. This is, after all, my freaking blog, buddy!

Who am I talking to anyway?

I don’t know

Quiet, you!


Anyhoo… the beginning of the week hasn’t been much better than the weekend. And what really troubles me is that I find no solace in things that had, in the past, always brought me comfort, things I could escape in, like reading books and watching movies. I’ve already blogged about not being able to stand music very much these days. Ack!

Thing is I don’t really have the luxury of NOT being okay. I’ve got my daughter this weekend. I can’t take care of her if I’m wrapped up in my own miserable self-pity — wah wah wah! Not to  mention self-loathing.


Well, that’s that then…

… I guess.

So why do I feel as if there should be more, I don’t know, not fanfare, that’s not the right word, but more…something to mark this dismal occasion.

For one thing , it’s too bright and sunny outside to reflect my bleak  mood. My misery. Where is the rain? And the gray overcast sky? The chilly ill wind? Eh, who am I kidding, I know better — the world does not adjust itself to your moods. If it mirrors it it is simply a coincidence.

Worst day ever!

Today marks the last day (and night) that I will spend in the house I have called home for about 7 years now. You know, when I say it it doesn’t seem like all that long. But really home is more about the people you live with than the place you live in. And in that case the home I’m leaving I’ve known for more than a decade. Now, that does seem like a long time. It does to me anyway.

Anyhoo… from now on I will only be a visitor there, although I’m sure it will still feel like home in some way, at least for a time. In a way, I’ll be glad when it is finally sold and I’ll never have to return to it, but that’s not going to happen for some time.

Tomorrow (Friday, April 23, 2010) after I pick up my daughter, get her home (her home, not mine), feed her dinner and make sure she’s completed her homework, I will, after Colleen home (her home, not mine) arrives from work, leave and go to my parents condo, where I’ve installed myself in the spare bedroom. And I suspect that will not feel very much like home. How could it? At least not at first.

This fact hangs over my head like some immense entity in the sky just waiting to fall and crush me, and I cannot escape it.

Perhaps it is too much to call today the “worst day ever!” even if it does feel that way. It’s probably more accurate to call it the “worst day ever…so far!” After all, considering circumstances there are likely to be even worse days in my future.

I’m sure that sounds pretty pessimistic, but really can you blame me? Besides I don’t think it’s so much pessimistic as it is realistic. I have a hard time believing that it is all up hill from here, that there aren’t sadder days ahead. But what do I know.

I’ve been attempting to prepare myself for this inevitable departure, in small ways. For example, instead of calling it “home” I try to say “the house.” As in, “I’ll see you at the house later.” And on my cell phone I’ve changed the land-line number designation from “Home” to “Derby house.” But I don’t know that that really helps much.

I don’t know that anything can really help. It is simply something to be done and endured. What else can you do?

No music….


One of the real bummers of my current circumstances, i.e. getting divorced, is that I can no longer enjoy music. In fact, I can barely stand it.

I’ve always lived with the notion that music can be a comfort and cathartic, especially when you’re down, but for me right now it is just painful. It is the emotional equivalent of chewing on tinfoil.

Of course, I’ve never been a music connoisseur, but I’ve always  liked music, like anyone else. So to suddenly have it be a source of discomfort rather than pleasure is disheartening to say the least.

This is especially a problem for me at work, because I have a job where I sit at my computer all day and listening to music is one of the ways that helps you pass the time. But as stated above I can’t do that. Instead, I listen to TV shows online. I’m not so sure that listening to TV shows provides comfort as much as it is simply a distraction, which isn’t bad except there isn’t real joy in it, you know.

I do get some semblance of joy from reading still, thank God! Don’ t  know what I would do if I couldn’t read. I read all the time, somteimes several books simultaneously. But I can’t read while I’m working.

Writing helps but in a different way. It isn’t so much about joy or distraction as it is about making order of chaos. It is helpful to write, to shape the ides, to reconsider and rewrite.

Why am I not doing this for a live, you might ask?

Good fucking question. Why not indeed?

Daddy Daughter Road Trip

That’s right. Addy and I are hitting the road tomorrow. For Indianapolis. To visit my brother and his family, including one of Addy’s favorite cousins, Miss Riley Roo!

Traveling always makes me at least a little nervous, although it never used to. I used to find it much more exciting. Not sure when that changed. When I became a father? Before then? I’m not really sure. I just know that it makes me uptight now. And, taking a trip as a single parent is even more nerve-wracking. You have to be responsible for everything. You really appreciate how having a spouse made it easier. There was two of you to make sure you that you didn’t forget anything.

But really, other than critical medications, what could you possible forget that couldn’t be bought on the road or once you get to where you going?

Of course, it also means that I do all the driving, there and back, about five hours each way, which really isn’t that much, especially when you consider that I made a 13 hour car ride from here to Iowa a few years ago. (I took an alternate route. Don’t ask.) Still, there are more comfortable rides than my Honda Civic. But it’s got cruise control, so I got that going for me.

At least Addy is old enough to pack her own bag. Sort of.  I guide her along and check her packing but mostly I try to leave to her. She’s 9 after all.

But then, I’m 42 and I could really use someone looking over my shoulder when I’m packing. And I did…but not anymore.

One thing that makes traveling a lot less stressful is a GPS, which I’ll be using on this trip. It’s Colleen’s but she’s graciously allowed me to use it. Thank you! It’s so much better than trying to read a map while you’re driving, or trying to memorize the directions. You don’t have to make as many stops. Chances are I’ll get one for myself after I move out. Should probably get my own suitcase too. There’ so much stuff that I don’t have…

Anyway, I’ll probably be up for a little while, running through a mental check list, to make sure I don’t forget anything. And, oh yeah, now that I think about I need to get gas on my way out of town. But I’m sure that I will forget something. I usually do. REMINDER: packs snacks!

zign zee papers!

Got “served” with my divorce papers on Saturday. Sounds worse than it is. With an amicable divorce you don’t actually get served. Some guy doesn’t sneak up on and just say your name and then shove an envelope in your hands. In an amicable divorce the papers are mailed to you.

And you know that there coming, which is hard enough, the anticipation of their impending arrival. Dunt dunt da! I can’t imagine just suddenly getting slapped with them. That would suck. It does suck, according the people I’ve encountered who have experienced it.

Still, when I got the envelope my heart sunk into my stomach. My throat got dry. Saddness poured through my a slow, sticky liquid. Yuck!

I didn’t sign them right away. I let them sit until Sunday evening. Then, after confirming what I was supposed to mail back with C, I signed where the sticky note said to sign, folded the document and slid into the postage-paid envelope provided. Then I stuck it out in the mailbox. It would have been picked up yesterday and will probably be delivered today. No doubt it will be filed before the end of this week.

Another step in the process down.