JUST ANOTHER DAY

This morning I called the lawyer.  I wasn't able to get an appointment yet, but my call is officially in, and he can't use him because I got there first.  Not that I'm actually winning any contests because of it.   I took down the box in my closet containing my yellowed, yucky, 20-year-old wedding dress.  I always meant to get it cleaned but it was too easy to forget about, so maybe I'll do that and have my mom keep it at her house.  The week after this happened I put my actual gold wedding ring and the white gold version we bought at an antique store into a small black bag for my mom to put in her lock box.  I figured each kid would end up with a ring that way.  When I think of all the "marriage" things I have around here that I have to go through, I get really sad, but I almost feel like I have to do it quickly.  Everything in my house is a physical manifestation of our life together and I have to figure out how to make dissolving it less painful.  I cried a tiny bit this morning when I was just curiously looking for area divorce support groups.  Only a tiny bit.  I felt the weight on my chest sporadically and briefly throughout the day, but I tried moving my treadmill workout to afternoon instead of mid morning so the endorphins would kick in later in the day.  I'm not sure if it helped or not, but it's 6:30 and I haven't felt the crushing weight that has usually had me sobbing from around 5 until 7 every evening.  I don't think I can put off the treadmill until afternoon every day, though.  I don't really enjoy waiting to shower until 5 p.m. 

After the treadmill, around 3:30, he showed up to get the car.  I had just sat down to study a little more, which is causing me trouble because every time I open that binder I get flooded with memories, good and bad.  I had fun there a few times (the middle was kinda crappy but the beginning and the end was fun). It was the last place where my life was still the same back home.  Anyway, he showed up and stood there looking around, seeming a little irritated that I wasn't being friendly.  I didn't want to look at him when he asked me a question.  I tried to focus on my book and my notes. Then when he walked down the stairs he said goodbye and I said nothing, and I felt the tension wafting back up the stairs toward me.  Get over it, buddy. You're not my friend right now.