February 28th... A Day That Will Live in Infamy... Or Maybe Not

A little kiss of freedom,
I've forgotten how that tasted.
A little room for breathing,
then you're on your way.
There's a million little reasons
for this smile on my face.
Without those tears in my eyes
I bet you'd hardly recognize me.

 

- Jennifer Nettles, Me Without You

 

I've been a little distracted lately. The kids are on school vacation, and I'm having some work done on my house. Nothing major, just replacing a door that stopped opening. Literally. It won't open. It's the little things you take for granted in life, like having a main door to your house function. I'll be living the dream once I have a new door and the ability to leave my house an alternative way.

I woke up this morning and thought, is today someone's birthday? A famous date in history? What is it about today's date that makes me feel like I'm forgetting something? I didn't have time to mull it over too long, I was running late for work.

As I was taking a walk on my lunch hour, it washed over me like a cascading tidal wave what the date is today. February 28th. GODDAMN IT, it's February 28th. OMG. One year ago today my ex-husband dropped his bombshell and told me that he was leaving to find his happiness (in someone else's pants evidently). I don't think he looks at Pinterest much... otherwise he would have seen all the inspirational pins 'You're responsible for your own happiness' and 'Happiness can't be found in someone else's vagina'. (Okay, I made that last one up.)

One year ago today he ripped apart my safe little world and my kids' intact family. One year ago today I would have never dreamed it possible to not immediately be aware of what occurred on this date. Now I can totally visualize that in another year's passing, February 28th will be just another day.

Time does heal all wounds.

Now I wake up early,
whole world feels new.
Seems so strange to ask myself
what do I want to do.
Now I don't know this road I'm on
or where it's leading to,
but I know I'm gonna be alright.
The more I see, the more I like me.

 

- Jennifer Nettles, Me Without You

 

 

My True Love

'Happy Valentine's Day,' sincerely said no recently divorced person ever. 

Today is a snow day in New England. The storm that shut down the south has moved in. The kids and I are huddled down at home, baking treats and cuddling and playing on electronics. Yeah, mostly the latter. 

Instagram is my weakness. I have sworn off Facebook, can't really get into Twitter but I could sit and look at Instagram all day...and probably will. However, today is a day where there's bound to be a twinge or two in my heart when I see all the happy photos posted. 

'Look at the rose my Mr Mister got me!' 

'Check out the heart necklace engraved with 'eternal love' that I found on my pillow today!' <gag> 

I wish there was a way to filter out nausea-inducing photos. I'm only interested in pretty houses and recipes mingled with cute dog photos, thank you very much. Luckily my true love seems to sense when I need some loving and he's glad to oblige. 

Happy Fucking Made Up Holiday, y'all!

Living the Dream

It's been over a week since the successful extraction of Squatter. Many tears were shed (hers), many curse words were spoken (mine when I realized that I would have to physically move her shit myself to get her out) but she is gone...gone..gone...gone. <Insert my happy dance here.>

I knew her room was a pig sty but I had no idea how bad it was until I went in there to 'help' her pack up her stuff. And by help, I mean do most of it myself as she sat on her bed patting her cat saying her life was so hard. 'I'm sorry your boyfriend broke up with you and served you with a restraining order but you gotta take your cray-cray elsewhere and get out of my kids' lives. You've had two months to figure out what you were going to do, the time has come to part ways. Buh-bye.'

Her bedroom should have been featured on an episode of 'Hoarders'. I don't believe she was acquainted with the idea of a trash can. She literally had garbage on the floor of her room. The best example to portray the conditions that she lived in  - there was a used pregnancy test on her floor. Along with dozens of dirty forks, knives, spoons, strewn all over her room, some hiding under her mail, some in her bed. OMG, if I had known how bad it was in there I would have never been able to sleep a wink with that down the hall from me. DISGUSTING. You literally could not see the floor of her room except for one small path that went from the door to her bed. The rest of the room was piled high with...garbage, shit, junk. Nothing of value really.

My parents, being the supportive folks they are, showed up on my doorstep the day Squatter was to leave. I didn't call them to let them know I thought I was going to have a hard time getting rid of her. I was embarrassed. My dad said that he knew I was going to say that but that he and my mother know how tenants can be and he thought them being there would help. And yup, it did. The tears that Squatter shed over how can I kick her out of my house when she doesn't have a place to go, why can't I be more supportive since I just went through a breakup myself, that all stopped once my parents arrived on the scene. Thank you Mommy and Daddy!

My parents helped move Squatter's things out of my house. Carried box after box of junk, helped to load up her king size mattress. Have I said lately how lucky I am to have my parents? My best friend also pulled a shift and carried her share of boxes. It takes a village to move out a hoarding squatter apparently. Where were Squatter's friends during this move? She doesn't have any, a direct quote from her. Okay then, I guess my family and friend will haul your shit just so we can be rid of you.

Now that Squatter is gone, the house has a calm, peaceful feel to it.... Not quiet, of course, there are still two rambunctious dogs running around knocking things over and leaping furniture in single bounds. But the house is ours again, mine and the kids. Finances might be a little more tight than they used to be but no amount of money is worth having an interloper in our lives. I can run around naked once again, make as much noise as I want to at 5AM in the morning. Ah, I'm living the dream, life is grand.