- I set up a joint Instagram account for the kids, which I manage, because they begged me for an account where they could post pics of the pets. I told them the rules, one of which is: I can follow you, but you cannot follow me. Lol.
- Speaking of social media, I’ve been hate following a blog for a few years now, and lately it has been an epic trainwreck that I just can’t look away from. It’s almost like a reality tv show. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine.
- I have no idea wtf I’m doing, and I’m not sure how I’ve managed to convince so many people that I do. In reality: i feel like i’m drowning.
The ex and I told Jackson about Gracie. That went about as well as you’d imagine. He’s heartbroken…obviously.
So tomorrow afternoon it’s happening. I’m seriously sad. I’m also annoyed that the ex’s gf is insisting on being there. I mean…really?? So I guess I get to ugly cry in front of her. Even my ex is like yeah I wish she wasn’t coming. Ugh…catch a fucking hint. She’s not your dog. She was never your dog. She’s never going to be your dog. This is hard enough without adding her into the mix. I don’t have anything against her, but she’s going to make an awful situation extremely awkward. Fuck.
Can you tell I’m in a bad mood?
Oh and I’m pretty sure I have a raging sinus infection, but I’m too sick and tired and sad to do anything about it right now.
It’s a vicious cycle.
You can’t just walk away from 500 active cases, no matter how much you want to, and you still need to make money, so you have to take on even more cases. And this goes on and on and on for the rest of your fucking life until you just drop dead from the stress of it all.
That’s what it’s like being a lawyer.
Oh and you likely paid like $100,000.00 for the privilege.
All I can do is make the goodwill gesture. At least I can say I tried.
- I keep starting and deleting posts.
- I’m just not feeling it, and by it, I basically mean anything and everything.
- If this bitch mumbles something under her breath one more time…
- I’m not into the holidays so much this year. I was for a while, but then I just stalled out. I don’t care about making the rest of the cookies. I don’t care about shopping for presents. I don’t even care about getting presents. Fuck presents. It’s not like we don’t have enough shit as it is.
- I went to drop Bismarck off for his first day at doggy daycare this morning, but ended up driving off because that place was sketch as fuck. It’s looks like it’s at someone’s house. Fuck that shit. You need to warn a bitch about shit like that. My neighbor recommended them to me and now I want to give her all the side eye. I’m not leaving my dog at some grubby, meth shack to be neglected and likely leave with fleas. NO THANKS.
- Luckily, D has found a posh place in Chesterfield that is on my way to work and looks way more like what I was expecting. $400/month for doggy daycare. We’re those people now.
- Whatever. We can afford it.
- I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of paperwork.
- As per usual, incompetence abounds.
- I hate that shit where somebody waits until the last minute to do something, which then becomes an emergency for them, and then they think that means it is now also an emergency to me. NOPE.
- Managing people is the fucking worst sometimes. Sometimes I daydream about quitting and doing doc review instead.
- I had four Facebook messages this morning and three of them were friends/acquaintances asking for legal advice and/or help. #lawyerlife
- I’m so fucking chubby. *lol sob*
- I know, I know. “Oh, Jenn, your size small dress feels a little tight. Boo hoo poor baby.” But what the fuck ever this is my blog and I’ll do what I want, and I want to wine about my mom bod and chub roll.
- I’m grumpy as fuck today.
- And I have zero motivation right now to do anything about it.
- Honestly, though…beer would help. Beer me. Now. Please.
I fucking love Halloween. Always have. I’m glad I’m with someone now who doesn’t shame me for it.
That said, my ex looked sad when I left tonight. He likes having the family together, I think. I feel bad for his gf, honestly. It’s a whole thing.
I love Marilyn Manson. Idgaf. His covers of Personal Jesus and Sweet Dreams are fucking legit.
I had an hour long phone conversation today with a female colleague I’ve never cared for, but I’ve changed my mind about her. She’s smart and articulate and she’s paved the way for women like me in the bk bar. Mad props to her.
I can admit when I’ve been wrong.
In other news, I need to stop letting someone else get under my skin. What’s that meme about not letting people have space in your head??? That. STAHP.
I’m maintaining my weight and that’s my goal for the honeymoon. Because I’m going to DRINK.
Eat, drink, and be merry. For tomorrow we’re dying.
We’re out on the town tonight and I’m only blogging because D is picking up the bbq while I watch the drinks.
We’re watching PA2 when we get home.
Happy, happy. 💙
WHEW Dr. Frankenstone is fucking me up.
- Yesterday, I blocked someone on Facebook whom I’ve known for over thirty years because she is a selfish, trashy bitch who has to shit all over other people’s happiness, and I am done with her bullshit.
- I love that I can block incoming calls and texts from her, too. Bitch, bye.
- The Instagram block feature doesn’t work very well. That’s annoying. Like I can still see certain comments even though someone is blocked…wtf?
- That isn’t that big of a deal though because it was someone different (not the trashy bitch) and I mostly did it for her well being, not mine.
- A very odd situation occurred last night with the ex, and I’m not going to go into details here, but I just wanted to record it for future reference. D and the bestie think it’s all about trying to stay relevant in my life, which I suppose makes sense, but like he’s my son’s father so of course he’s relevant. I guess that’s easy for me to say, though. He didn’t just get married and give my son a new step-mother/family.
- I found out that this dude at my wedding was groping several of my female guests, and so now I’m going to have to cut this motherfucker.
- Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with people????
- I had a long talk with the bestie last night because she is super upset with a mutual friend who is in a relationship with a married man…but with his wife’s permission. They are poly. The bestie doesn’t approve, and I understand her concern comes from a good place, but I had to explain to her that we have to let people we love make their own way in life, even if we disagree with how they’re going about it.
- I don’t disagree with it, for the record. It’s not a lifestyle that would work for me, but you do you, baby. I know several poly people who are very happy. I just want my friends to be happy.
This article hits home for me.
Being a second wife and a stepmother is rather like learning to perfect a set of aerial maneuvers. There are seriously complicated stunts involved– trapeze artists have less difficulty in learning when to disappear and resurface at exactly the right moments than your average second wife.
Just a few weeks ago, D and I were chatting with Freya via FaceTime regarding her leg injury. Unexpectedly, his ex stepped into the frame and the two of them starting getting a bit snippy with one another. I turned around and left the room without saying anything, because I knew it wasn’t my place to be involved in that conversation. It’s not the first time it has happened, and I’m certain it won’t be the last. Such is life as the second wife. Hey, that rhymed!
- On repeat in my head.
- If this motherfucker doesn’t stop mansplaining me…
- Ugh never gonna happen.
- Please remind me why I even went to law school?
- D is leaving town this afternoon. Sigh.
- No kids at home tonight. Sigh.
- I’ve gotten exceptionally good at being fake to people, and the necessity for that just makes me really fucking sad.
- I’m trying not to be an asshole, but you’re not making it easy on me.
- I need a burrito tonight. Happening.
I didn’t sleep well last night. My thoughts were racing all night, and I just couldn’t relax as a result. After taking enough Melatonin to put out a large beast, I finally passed out, but I slept fitfully.
I’m worried about various work related things.
I’m worried about finances. We’re fine, but the wedding is such a huge expenditure, and I feel broke as a result.
I’m worried because this is the slow season at the firm and this is not a good time for the slow season.
I’m worried that we’re going to have to change and/or reschedule our honeymoon due to hurricane damage.
I’m worried that this damn medication isn’t going to work for me and that I will live a pain filled existence.
I’m worried that I’ll wake up in pain and/or with swollen joints on our wedding day.
I’m worried that I’m forgetting something important that needs to be done.
I’m worried that my wedding dress isn’t going to fit.
I’m worried that the exes will be sad on our wedding day, and I don’t want them to be sad. I don’t want them to care at all, but is that realistic? Prob not. I don’t pretend to know how D’s ex will feel, but I’m certain my ex will be upset and I hate that. I hate that my happiness is at his expense.
I’m worried that my wedding vows are going to suck. I have so much I want to say to him, and I feel incapable of eloquently expressing my feelings.
I’m worried about so much more, but it’s too much to post.
This is normal, right? I hope this is normal. I used to take Xanax to help with this sort of thing, but I haven’t taken that shit in a long time. I’m hoping that a chill night with D will help get me in a better state of mind.
- Sometimes someone will post about how boring they are, and I’ll be like…you’re right! Then I immediately unfollow them.
- I mean…you said it.
- I’m a lot of things, but I don’t think I’m boring.
- I’m definitely bitchy though, so if you don’t like bitchy people then *you* should unfollow me.
- I’ve also unfollowed people recently for having to be a hater about fucking everything. I don’t have time for that shit. Let people be excited about shit, for fuck’s sake.
- I’ve unfriended people whose politics I generally agree with for being condescending assholes about it.
- I’m tired of pretending to like people I don’t actually like. I don’t think I’m going to do it anymore. There is one exception to this.
- Okay…there are three exceptions, actually.
- For now.
- I used to have my mom restricted on Facebook, but I don’t anymore. My mom is actually pretty fucking cool, so I’m just going to go with it. She doesn’t mind all of my f-bombs. I mean, she’s the one I learned it from, so…
- I saw a meme the other day that said something like: everyone loves a bad ass bitch until they realize that the bad ass bitch isn’t going to take their shit either. I find this to be shockingly accurate, and kind of the story of my life right now.
- I saw another meme that was like: I don’t burn bridges, I just let them slowly deteriorate over time. That’s so me, unless you fuck with me, and then I will burn this motherfucker down, to even my own detriment, just to spite you.
- I get ragey, you see. Red Jenn. I’ve gotten way better about it over the years, but at the end of the day, I have quite the temper.
- Just ask my ex husband.
- Or fuck…ask my soon-to-be. Though honestly, we don’t fight much. When we do, it can get cray. But I just love the way we make up.
- Heart eyes, motherfuckers. I know we’re gross, but I just don’t care.
- People love to hate other people for being happy. I read a blog post about me once that was basically like “enjoy it while it lasts” and I was like mmm hmm.
- I just got the kind of text I love to see from Dave: “I’m on my way.”
- Date night in the city, bitches.