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[Friday, June 26th, at 3:39pm] |
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Are the missing icons an error or the part of my computer or is everyone experiencing the same technical difficulty?
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| OOC NOTICE |
[Sunday, June 7th, at 9:57pm] |
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I apologize for any and all comments I may have deleted. I was away all weekend, and just got back, and I suppose I can't remember my own IJ settings. If you'd like to repost them, feel free, if not I still apologize!
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| 006; this reminds me of my college thesis |
[Wednesday, May 20th, at 8:40pm] |
I love my life. I love my daughter. I love this house; and I love the freedom I have to tend to the yard and make phone calls to college campuses regarding visits this summer, and giving a few hours of my week to the Red Cross, and actually making Rachel Ray's 30-minute meals instead of simply watching the show, getting hungry, and then ordering a pizza. I honestly could not think of a better lifestyle to lead. As much as I do believe I am a stand-up, first-class housewife, I was made for more. Let's face it, I'm a trophy wife. On any other day I'd don a dress and pose and smile with freshly baked cookies and giggle at those words so sweetly you'd wonder if I'd heard you correctly. I heard you, and not only did I hear, but I understood. At 40 years old, one child under my belt and a Benz that Mattel couldn't replicate quick enough for the real Barbie herself, I'm worth coming home to. I live to be a short utterance away with whatever it is one might be requesting of me. Who wouldn't want that?
The man whom I've let work as busily as his heart wills him to, and lounge freely upon his rare arrival home while I, instead of he, go through the process of visiting the courthouse for a summons to divorce, has shown his disinterest in all that has been mentioned above. More so than the liberal amounts of love I pepper throughout the tasks I perform, I have a need for companionship, passion, and at least half the respect for my own word as I've had for his. Twenty years of suppressing the urge to buy Christmas decorations is about all any mother can take! Apart from such a comical note, I'm sad to say the best sex I had during the course of this marriage was on my 22nd birthday, and if my math is on point, that was the night Ilana became more than just a thought in the back of my head. Fifteen finger vibrators later, this marriage is over if I have any say, and I believe I do. Although I trust in Ivri's every word, and sometimes let him speak for me if he has a word to say, I understand matters as important as his own health have rested in my hands for decades now.
Over the course of the last month I've taken pleasure in how unpredictable his schedule is. It's given me time to pack away his rarely worn clothes and shoes and his old paperwork and schedule pick-up days for large appliances he can take with him should he like. I keep a giddier smile on my face now that we're playing the waiting game. I had the papers sent to his office, since he spends any time he doesn't use sitting in his office at home in his office at work. I hardly have a doubt he'll turn away a hand-delivered package. As tired and busy as he is, he'll have signed me away from him as easily as he avoids my touch now.
Although I'm excited, and taking out my newly gained and unabashed energy on the oven to cook up new dessert recipes I've come across, I'm unwilling to even look at another man until this marriage is final and Ivri is out of this house. If all goes as planned, Ilana will be with her father nearly every weekend next school year, giving me the freedom to put myself back on the market. Though, I think a lesson has been learned here: You cannot buy Marissa Briel. Until Ilana needs to begin her FAFSA and other paperwork for college around this time next year, I don't see a reason for her to know her parents are divorced. Besides, the girl has gotten used to seeing her mother jump around like a lunatic solo on the sidelines of the soccer field. There's no reason she would question my sleeping sans her father indefinitely.
Like I said, I love my life. :)
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