thanks mom

I finally emerged from the basement this morning and even found my way to the shower.  It took hours longer than usual but I managed to get dressed in a real outfit, shaved legs and all.  I wandered down to the Christmas tree and began cracking off dead branches that still had ornaments clinging to them and tossing them into a box~ branch, ornament, pine needles and all.  Sorry Martha, this year they won't be gingerly wrapped in spice and fir scented tissue and carefully placed in their neatly labeled boxes.  About 10 ornaments in I sat on the couch, depleted of energy expended on my efforts, and stared at the white wall for the next 35 minutes and let my mind mull over romantic fantasies of fighting for my family, calling jack and accepting his offer to put things back together because clearly I wasn't doing so well without him anyways, and doing it all over again the right way this time.  I could be the perfect mother, the perfect wife and make it all go away.  However, my brain kept getting stuck on the part where I had to jump back in bed with jack and consummate our beloved reunion.

Maybe I had spent too much time alone and in the dark basement. And perhaps 72 hours of E! television warps one's senses a bit.

A knock at the door brought this all to an ubrupt halt... Thank god or I might still be sitting there.  It was Steve, the smiling twenty something from my neighborhood coffee shop.  I panicked momentarily thinking I was still in my 3 days worn clothing from my amoeba state.  I jumped up and opened the door.  There this little darling stood with my daily drink.  A 20 oz soy chai/half water/extra hot.  He mentioned that he hadn't seen me in 3 1/2 days and was concerned that I couldn't possibly be ok going that long without my tea.  What a man  boy man.  He added that he would be happy to take my garbage cans to the street.  Perhaps the 5 weeks worth of garbage spilling from them was becoming noticeable?  I thanked him profusely told him he was a lovely and assured him I would be back at the coffee shop tomorrow at my usual time.   I was tempted to ask if he might be interested in giving jack a few private lessons in how to be a man, but refrained.

As I sipped my tea, I received a call from mother.  Normally my reflexes hit the ignore button but the goodwill from my visit from Steve prevailed and I answered.  I casually mentioned that I had given some thought to reconciling with jack and my mom gasped and hung up.  Within moments my mom burst through the door, walked up to me and gave me a solid bitch-slap followed by a hug.

Just what I needed.

the amoeba

Despite arguing that on his 6 figure salary he doesn't have the capacity to pay the mortgage for the past two months, jack decided to prove he still maintains his "father of the year" title by taking our 3 kids on a week long vacation post Christmas.  He rented an extravagant beach house and promised the kids a holiday vacation they'd never forget.  


Teary eyed I waved them off and decided that a week alone may not be such a bad thing after all.  But I'm thinking I might not be making the most of it.  My head has enjoyed a carousel-like ride of angry resolve to create a better life and sobbing hysterical realization that my family is dissolving.


And I'm three days in and fairly convinced that I've become an amoeba.



I move in a sludge like motion between my bed on the top floor and the comfort of my chenille sectional in my dark basement with my down comforter and the E! channel as my constant companions.  The impulse purchase during my trip to Costco last month of chocolate covered pomegranate seeds has proven not only a good buy after all but an adequate meal between bowls of microwave popcorn and the reese's trees that once filled the kids' stockings.  I'm careful to avoid any areas of the house that require cleaning and am crossing my fingers that the dried up Christmas tree doesn't combust into flames from the lights remaining on continually for the last 120 hours.


Still not convinced of my amoeba evolution?  Let's take a closer look, courtesy of Wikipedia...
    
Amoebae most recognizable features include nuclei and a simple contractile vacuole to maintain osmotic equilibrium. (fair enough) Food enveloped by the amoeba is stored and digested in vacuoles. (or thighs) Amoebae also have no definite shape.  (I'm pretty sure I'm rapidly getting there) Amoebae, like other single-celled eukaryotic organisms, reproduce asexually via mitosis and cytokinesis.  (not sounding too bad right about now) In cases where the amoeba are forcibly divided, the portion that retains the nucleus will survive and form a new cell and cytoplasm, while the other portion dies. 


Oh god, I hope I'm the portion that retains the nucleus.

a brief history

week one:
devoted husband of 12 years, let's call him jack (short for jackass of course) calls me on the phone to let me know that he has been single handedly keeping the economy stimulated (no pun intended) by investing his money into the heavily impacted business sector of online escorts for the past nine years. oh and he's very sorry.  his flight lands at 6pm~ can I pick him up at the airport? um, no.

week two:
day one: jack moves out of the house.  I wash my bedsheets 4 times then decide to throw them away and purchase new ones.  the ones I've drooled over for years but felt always too guilty to buy.
day three: jack and I sign a financial and custody agreement in hopes that I will take my time and not immediately file for divorce. fine. whatever.  
day seven: jack continually asks me if I am going to commit to working things out with him.  how many ways can I say f*#k no?

week three:
day one:  jack decides that we have no formal binding agreement.  his lawyer (what? we've got lawyers now?) has decided that moving forward all expenses should be split 50/50.  right.  not sure how that works when he makes 90% of the income.
day two: jack tearfully announces that it is just too difficult to spend time with the family therefore he can't help set up our 18 foot Christmas tree or help purchase presents for the kids.  he also just can't find the strength to be here on Christmas morning to watch our little ones open their gifts.  I should be fine though because I've got brothers.
day three: jack drains the joint checking account
day four: jack writes checks from my credit card account and deposits them in his personal account
day five: I look for a lawyer
day six: jack stops by the house for a friendly visit in which, after a lengthy exchange, he declares that it's really not his fault that I don't have money to retain a lawyer but that we really should be getting our lawyers in a room together to begin discussing a settlement. oh yes.  pronto.
day seven: I proudly retain a lawyer with a loan from a family member that seemingly hates jack more than I do

week four:
lawyers get paid hundreds of dollars an hour to talk to each other.  no sign of what they accomplished. no dialogue exchanged with jack. (best week ever)

week five:
no bills have been paid since prior to week one.  wow. what a man.

week six:
jack calls and asks me if there is any way to work things out.
me: YOU ARE A FAILURE OF A MAN.
jack: does this mean you'll try?