Food for thought…
Food for thought…
How many times in our lives does The Universe save our asses and we don’t even realize we’ve been saved?
Last Friday night Mr. Nice Guy and I went out on another, quite lovely date.
He has a serious shoe fetish and, a couple of weeks ago, I mentioned that he should take me to Designer Shoe Warehouse (DSW) where I could model shoes for him and he could take pictures.
He went absolutely crazy over the idea. So, last Friday evening he took me out shopping. Let me tell you that it was a lovely diversion from the Mick drama over the past few days.
First, we met in parking lot of the sex shop (Fascinations) near our work. (It’s where we always meet and we joke about it every time because there is a marijuana dispensary right across the street! How fitting, right?)
Previous post here
After I asked Mick to please stop because I feared for my and my family’s safety, he opened the proverbial flood gates.
It was like he had spent the past couple of days constructing hateful notes to me and then sent them all as soon as I re-engaged.
The first was his flippant comment email:
That sounds pretty threatening.
I’m sending you the other stuff that I have written. And then it will be turned over to the psychiatrist I spoke of in my other writings as evidence should you do something crazy to get your way.
Should *I* do something crazy?!?!
Am I missing something here?
After that, he sent three more.
Previous post here
Yeah, I knew exactly what he meant when he said that shit.
But I feigned naïveté because (maybe?) I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt… I don’t know. At this point I think I’m just a glutton for punishment and incredibly silly for not ending all communication with him.
So, after Mick hung up on me Tuesday morning, the thought crossed my mind, “Cool! Now I don’t have to figure out how to break up with him at the end of the month.”
I realize that is a very bitchy thought, but the mother-fucker just hung up on me after telling me he was done. What was I supposed to think? Read more
The title of these posts are ironic in more than one way…
Catch Part 1 here
After the bullshit of Friday night, things went back to “normal” with Mick for the rest of the weekend. Back and forth nothing comments about what we were each doing. He sent a couple of pictures of the hotel and downtown Cincinnati.
But again on Monday, he started in with the “wish you were here’s” and “somedays”. Each time he uses those words, my side drops off completely. I prefer not to engage with him when he starts talking about imaginary things.
Right now Mick is away on a 10-day motorcycle excursion to Cincinnati and back for an American Legion thing.
With his girlfriend.
I may or may not have mentioned before that Mick is very involved with the Sons of the American Legion and the Legion Riders here in Colorado: he is vice-commander of the state.
Also, his girlfriend is involved with the Sisters of the American Legion. That’s how they met 10 years ago and that is why they are going on this trip together.
She gets to ride on the back of his motorcycle. She gets to stay in his hotel room. She gets to eat meals with him. She gets to explore Cincinnati and the Ohio countryside with him during their down-time. Theoretically, anyway…
In a little less than 3 weeks, Thing #1 and I will be moving to a new apartment across town.
Finally, after a year of being divorced, Doom-n-Gloom will no longer be living in my apartment.
I’m super duper excited!!!
However, Thing #2 is kind of creating issues.
She has decided she would like to continue living with her father.