Thursday thoughts (it’s Thursday right?)

I’m taking a chill approach to the day. My first appointment is at 11, so I’m still at home. Starting slow. Going to shower in a bit.

I gave Jackson the option of skipping camp and coming to work with me, which he immediately accepted.

Speaking of camp, it’s a touchy subject for us (me and D) right now. I originally wanted to enroll Jackson into the normal day camp, which has hours from 6 to 6. Perfect for me, because I don’t have set hours. My ex argued and argued for this different schedule we’re doing now, where the camps and hours change every week. He thought it would be better for Jackson, and guilted me into it. He promised me he would cover pickups and drop offs when my schedule wouldn’t allow me to accommodate it. For example, camp this week runs from 8:45 to noon. I can’t leave work every day at noon and drive 20 miles to get Jackson.

Fast forward to yesterday, aka day three of camp. Suddenly he’s not sure he can make it happen, because he doesn’t have any gas money. He has money to go party with his friends on the weekend, and go out to eat, and buy video games, but not to pick up our kid – something he has already agreed to do. I am fucking livid.

I have some not very nice things I’d like to say regarding the reason he doesn’t have any money, but I’m going to bite my tongue.


I’m about to cancel the entire fucking thing.

Oh and shit like this…this is why we aren’t married anymore. This lazy, unemployed yet ridiculously entitled, selfish, always a victim, bullshit.

Oops. Guess I didn’t bite hard enough. Lol.

D and I have had serious discussions about just going for full custody. The only reason I don’t is because it’s not in Jackson’s best interest (emotionally).

Ugh. Whatever.

I really am in a decent mood – despite how this post reads. I’m just annoyed as fuck regarding this one situation.

A word of advice: don’t get married in your 20s.

I’ve got you

I love taking care of my husband when he gets too drunk.

That probably seems weird to some (most?) people, but it’s true. It doesn’t bother me at all. I’m happy to leave wherever we are as soon as he says he’s had too much, drive him home, get him undressed, and safely into bed. Give him three Thive+ tablets, two Advil, and a big glass of water. Tell him I love him and soothe him to sleep.

I remember when I was with G (my ex-husband) and how he would shame me every time I got too drunk. He was so brutal that he had me thinking I had a legitimate drinking problem; when really I was just blowing off steam. I remember the night I found out I passed the bar exam: we went out with a few friends and I really cut loose, which I like to think was completely understandable under the circumstances. But apparently not, because he shit talked me for days. I sucked. I was an alcoholic. And a bad wife. And selfish. And it went on and on. All because I had too many drinks in celebration of a huge fucking achievement: you know…passing the fucking bar exam, and got spinny and nauseated as a result. I never ever forgot the way he made me feel, and I promised myself I’d never make anyone else feel shitty for getting too drunk. Getting yelled at while you’re throwing up is the fucking worst. Who does that to someone they supposedly love??

I remember the first time I got too drunk around D. It was during our first summer together. I got super defensive because I just assumed he would be shitty to me because of it, and as a result, I was unintentionally shitty to him. That was a huge relationship milestone for us. That night was my first significant indication that maybe I could relax around him. It feels good to know you’re safe and taken care of no matter what. I want D, my kids, and my friends to always know I’ve got them. No matter what.

I’m just going to say it

Because fuck it.

I’m sitting in the parking lot at the orthodontist’s office, and I need to vent.

Guess who couldn’t be bothered to show up today? Yep…Jackson’s dad. I mean I’m not surprised or anything, but I am angry and disappointed. It’s bad enough I have to carry the financial burden on my own, and the time burden too; since despite the fact that he’s unemployed, I can’t trust him to get Jackson where he needs to be. I’m just extremely fucking frustrated right now and I needed to put it out into the world. So here it is.


*hulk smash*

This is a stupid, petty little rant, but I need to get it out:

I fucking hate co-parenting sometimes.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I bought tickets for the family to go see Rogue One tonight. I bought these tickets like two weeks ago as part of the kids’ Christmas countdown activities. We made a point of telling the kids about it ahead of time so that they could tell the other parents about it. We wanted to avoid having them see it twice in a short period of time. Both of the other parents are big Star Wars fans, so this was a good possibility. I even told my ex about it personally, because I knew I couldn’t rely on children to relay information.

So what happens? Both kids told us when we spoke to them this weekend that they had seen the movie with the other parents. Okay fine. I can still work with that. But…it gets better! My ex called earlier to tell me something unrelated and happened to mention that he took Jackson to see it twice this weekend. Fucking twice. When he knew we had tickets to go see it tonight!

That’s just such a dick move, in my opinion. He just shit all over my fucking plans. I paid like fifty fucking dollars for these tickets, and there is no way Jackson is going to want to see it a third time in as many days. I don’t blame him. Ugh I’m just so (admittedly probably irrationally) angry about this and I want to shit all over something that is important to him just to be an asshole.

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck you so fucking hard. Grrr.


Parent/teacher conference was tonight…

I swear to fucking god my ex is a master at making literally everything about himself. 

Teacher: Jackson really loves books. 

The ex: Oh that’s because I’m in publishing so books are a huge part of my life…blah blah blah.

Teacher: Jackson is advanced on everything but writing.

The ex: Oh that’s crazy because I’m a published author. Blah blah blah.

Me: 😡😡😡😡😡

matter of fact 

Today my ex told me, among other things, that he’s not in love with me anymore.

He went on to say that he was explaining to Jackson that we met when we were very young (18) and that people just grow apart, and that’s why we had to get divorced. 

It was surprisingly mature for someone I typically describe as a man-child.

Anyway…I was glad to hear it. Though I’ve been mostly over the guilt for a while now. It has almost been five years, after all. Plus, if the exes can’t see that we are all better off now then they must be blind. Who wants to be stuck in a loveless marriage? 

So yeah…that happened today.

maybe you need to be a different kind of person?

I had an awkward conversation with my ex a bit ago.

He called to (supposedly) ask my advice about a shitty situation he finds himself in, though I think he really just wanted to talk about it. Apparently, he has been banging some chick for the past couple of weeks in order to get over his break up with Alaska chick. To make a long story short, this woman is apparently an alcoholic who has admittedly stolen things (including prescription drugs) from previous boyfriends. He is very confident that she stole one of his guitars when she left his house this morning. He plans to confront her about it (though I told him that was likely pointless), and probably file a police report so he can file a renter’s insurance claim (per my advice).

Anyway, he started complaining about how hard dating is and made the comment, “I don’t pull down lawyers anymore.” To which I replied, “Well you used to, so…” He replied, “I’m not that kind of person anymore.”

What I didn’t say, but wanted to, was, “Maybe you need to be a different kind of person then.” Not because he needs to be dating lawyers, but because dating fucked up people who steal from you is not a good alternative. Especially when you have a kid. How about working on yourself? If you can’t find someone worthy of being in your life, how about not dating?

I can’t even. Way to always be a fucking victim. The unspoken theme throughout the conversation (throughout all of our conversations really) is “you divorced me and broke my heart so now I’m doomed to date degenerates.”

Good call, dude. Way to adult.

Maybe I’m being too harsh? That’s possible. I’m hard on people, though I don’t expect more from anyone else than I demand from myself.

Anyway, that’s my truth for the day.

dude, wtf?

I’ve gotta get my rant on:

So I pick Jackson up from school this afternoon and he doesn’t have his coat. It’s 35 fucking degrees outside and so I’m obviously like wtf? He explains to me that his dad was running late this morning (*let me mention here that it was already a late start day, which means school didn’t start until fucking 11 am) and told Jackson he didn’t have time to go back for it. Despite the fact that he lives fucking five minutes from the school and has no place to be because he has no job. Then I’m like, so what did you do during recess? And Jackson explains that his teacher had him wear a coat from the lost and found, which I’m obviously grateful for because it was cold and all, but still…ugh.  Now we look like incompetent asshole parents and I am fucking pissed. I would never have allowed this. 

Maybe I’m overreacting…I don’t know. I’m pissed though.


I call him and I’m like yeah I need to come by to get the coat. He acted all put out by this and sounded as though I had woken him up. It was 4:15 pm, btw. Anyway, I go get it and he’s completely unapologetic about it. I wanted to talk shit, but I won’t get into it with him in front of our kid because I’m not trash. 

On the way home, I had to stop at the drug store because we needed children’s Advil, and Jackson jumped out of the car without his coat on (he had been buckled in when his dad threw it in the car, so he didn’t put it on then). I reached back into the car to grab it and hit my head so very hard against the top of the door. So hard. I saw black spots. I got dizzy. My vision blurred. I became nauseous and felt a stabbing pain behind my eye. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

So I’m pretty sure I have a mild concussion. I’m home now. Still hurts. I’m grumpy as fuck and I have decided to blame it all on my ex.

The end.