Monthly Archives: December 2015
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 790 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 13 trips to carry that many people.
Ten months ago today was one of the worst days of my life. Just four days before, Scott had broken up with me. I’d spent the previous night with my older son’s father as a “trial run” to see if we could live together again. That proved to be a huge “NO” when he couldn’t stand for me to have friends or a social life.
There I was, terrified, depressed, and wanting to be somewhere familiar with friends. The friends part happened but not the somewhere familiar. My friends drug me to a bar I had never been to. I was out of my comfort zone and freaking out.
Turns out, that bar was the exact thing I needed to be that night. Well… the bar, plus liquid courage provided by the DJ.
Ten months ago today is the day Finn walked into my life.
Yes, I was D.R.U.N.K the night I met Finn. He actually had to help me retrieve memories from that night. From my “not purple” thong, to him grabbing my ass and me asking him to do it again.
He’s broken through all of my anxieties, and weaseled his way right into my heart. From the very first hug.
That hug was, and still remains, my most vivid memory from that night. A hug, but not a kiss. Our first kiss was reserved for our first date, two weeks later.
He’s everything I was always told I never deserved. Everything I never thought I was good enough to even ask for. Most days, the thought still crosses my mind that I’m not good enough for him, and trying to figure out how to be good enough for him.
Today marks nine months since Finn and I made it official. That just doesn’t seem possible. In some ways it feels a lot longer, but in other ways it doesn’t seem that long at all.
The past nine months have been one helluva roller coaster ride, and he’s been by my side through it all.
He’s definitely a keeper.
And all my friends agree.
Now, we just have to get my pesky divorce finalized so we can move on with the rest of our life together.
My seasonal depression hit over the weekend. Now I’m in this weird place (emotionally) of wanting to be close to Finn, but at the same time not wanting to get on his nerves or be a burden.
My happiness is not his job.
On top of that, I’m not looking forward to Sunday. My birthday. Thirty-three. This birthday is bothering me even more than my thirtieth did. I honestly have zero clue why.
Most of today, I’ve just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear until I can yank myself out of this shit. I don’t like Finn seeing me when I’m like this. It’s not fair to him.
I *should* be happy. And that’s what fucks with my mind even more. My life may not be fairy tale perfect, but I do have every reason to smile. I have two awesome kidlets, an amazing man, and friends that I know would be there for me in a heartbeat (if only I’d let them know).
I’m just in a “Fuck this, Fuck that, and Fuck you, too” kinda mood today.
I FINALLY received something about the divorce proceedings…
That my case had been received. On December 1st. I turned in my packet on November 16th.
Oy. This is going to take forever.
Last night was rough, to say the least…
Before Finn got home from work (Can I just say that I HATE that he works nights???), I woke up from a semi-nightmare.
I’d been laying in bed, half asleep, when all of a sudden these half-monkey-half-hermit crab things started attacking me. They had the shells and hard exoskeletons of hermit crabs, but were furry and had tails like monkeys. Seriously, WTF???
I tried to wait up for Finn after that, but failed miserably.
Then, this morning, another one hit…
I had been sitting in the living room when I hear a car door slam shut. I looked out the window to see our mail carrier unloading bunk beds. So I go outside, and she hands me two open envelopes.
One was the paperwork for the divorce, with information circled, underlined, and written in. The other was paperwork she’d filled out to report me to CPS (Child Protection Services). Using the information she’d found on the divorce paperwork (what she’d circled, underlined, written in) and the delivery of the bunk beds as “evidence”.
Yeah, to say I’m shaken up is an understatement