I argued with DH Sunday night (and didn’t sleep) prior to his leaving for a business trip Monday morning (we still have not spoken). Prior to the argument, I had offerred to take SD8 to a movie Monday evening after I got home from work on Monday.

Below is the response to my girlfriend who e-mailed on Tuesday to ask how my evening went with SD8 (the only words I changed in order to post this was “SD8” and “DH” and left out the exact amount of the the exorbitant amount of alimony BM receives which is SO exorbitant that its embarrassing to post the actual amount.)

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It was good.

Lesbo dropped SD8 off at exactly 6:03 and promptly asked me to get her ready for bed and put her pj's on, before I bring her home. I said that I was taking SD8 out, soooo no, couldn't do that. I told Laxative that I would have her home by 9:30. Its now only 6:15 by the time SD8 and I leave the house and the movie doesn't start for an hour so I take SD8 to Superstore, where I let her load up on her own selection of bulk junk food (its Lamppost's sugar rush to deal with, not mine). We're at the theatre now but we're still about 15 minutes before the movie starts. We hang out in the lobby where I feed loonies to SD8 to play the "Tetris" like game that she enjoys so much but never wins (those friggen things are fixed...a scam, I tell you, a scam). 6 loonies later, I yawn and tell SD8: "I'm buying your love loonie by loonie". Indulgent? Yes. Do I care? No, as my energy has waned to the point where I wouldn't have batted an eyelash should she have taken her clothes off and pranced around the lobby singing "I'm a future hooka and that there Biotch is my pimp".

The movie was really quite funny. Exactly all my brain could handle. The 80's power ballads were a nice touch.

Oh, ohhh, movie is over...I see by my watch that I would be getting to Limited's by 9:10 (and not 9:30). I call her on my cell from the car on the way there because I know, I KNOW that if I show up at 9:10 and not 9:30 as previously stated, she won't be home. Sure enough. I say, "I'm about 10 minutes from your house"...she says...."oh, that's okay, I'm only 2 minutes away from my place (the local pub which is across the street, is my deduction), we'll leave now". Honestly, I don't care what the eff she does (oh, on a side note, did I tell you that we found out, not from her, that she applied at a car dealership as a receptionist?" WTF kind of career move is that?? What's next? Subway Sandwich Artist? Then bust through the glass ceiling as a Squeegee Kid? Hmmm, must be the $X,XXX clear she gets a month from DH.....why does she work at all????).

I go home, and settle in for a nice episode of TV at its worst, also known as "The Bachelor". Watching attractive, seemingly intelligent women, vie for the attention of a man with a kid and and ex.....well that's just like watching passenger's jostle each other up the plank to board the Titanic on its maiden voyage.

Afterward, I'm laying in bed in the dark and thinking that what I have with DH, is really not what I want my marriage to be. We have parallel lives that intersect gloriously once in awhile. And I find my existence is waiting for those roads to cross and resenting the road I'm on the whole time, when what I really want is to be in the same car. So I fall asleep with this fantasy that I divorce DH and the day after the divorce is final, I win the lottery, move into a modest house in the burbs and adopt a 5 year old. Next thing I know...its morning.