Today I had an "Oh My God I'm getting divorced and will it ever end" day.
Divorce, unless you've been married two minutes and have no community property, drags on forever.
The lawyer can't find my affidavit of income and expenses and I have to do another one. Why wasn't the first one filed months ago, and why oh why didn't I make a copy of it?
I still don't have my computer and some of the information I need for the affidavit is on the computer.
The lawyer has used up the entire retainer and already wants another $432 and my husband, who said he would pay my legal expenses, is balking at giving up more of his vast fortune. The richest people are the cheapest.
The lawyer also wants copies of all my medical records, so I have to write to all my doctors giving them permission to give the copies to the lawyer, then wait for them to tell me how much the copies cost so I can pay them and then they will send the copies to the lawyer.
I have already spent a small fortune copying documents for this damned stupid moronic divorce. It's so easy for my husband. He can make all the freaking copies he wants for free.
So, I have come up with a solution to my problems: Men used to hire substitutes to serve in the military for them. I want a sub to go through the rest of the divorce for me. I will hire her to deal with everything that needs doing, she can be miserable and cry for me, she can fight over money, and I will just relax.
Don't you think that's a good idea?
In the middle of my misery today, and oh by the way I did get the house super clean even though I had to stop from time to time to cry, I remembered something that happened a couple of weeks ago that made me laugh.
We couldn't let our dogs out in the fenced in back yard because one of the little devils, who weighs 80 pounds, broke one of the barriers that keep the dogs from going under the deck, then under the house, and trotting out to freedom.
So the dogs who are not trustworthy, and that's most of them, had to be walked around the front yard on a lead or be chained in the back yard. The 80 pounder who started all the trouble would not poop when he was chained or on the lead.
After a couple of days, obviously he was getting pretty desperate. My favorite younger man left his bedroom door open and Mr. 80 Pounds sneaked into the bedroom, hid behind the door, and took a gigantic dump.
I mean, really, you can imagine the poop that would come out of a dog that big who hadn't gone for a couple of days. I had to use the pooper scooper to clean it up.
Ah, well, that's life with dogs and divorce. Somebody's always takin' a shit on ya.
We used to have a blind dog. When we took him for a walk on a lead, which he handled very well in spite of not knowing where he was going, he did the most hilarious thing. When my husband would bend down to tie his shoe, the dog would pee on him - just the same as if he were a stop sign post.
I guess my husband didn't think it was as funny as I did. Toughski shitski, as the Russians say.
Tomorrow I might write about a famous Olympic dumper, and may God grant that my computer will be back with me.
Oh, and I thought of something I forgot to tell you about the L word yesterday.
In the romantic tradition, it was believed that love entered through the eyes. Thus the saying Love at first sight.
I have only experienced love at first sight with my children, my dogs and my favorite younger man's dogs.
Dumped First Wife
Tomorrow is another day, Miss Scarlet!