A New Page

There is one person on this planet who heard the phrase "Honey, we have to talk" tonight, and yet was undeservedly shocked and surprised by the discovery that I really did go ahead and sever our finances. I almost feel bad for the guy. Not bad enough to stop my plan of action, but bad enough to wonder if my version of reality is so very, very different.

I'm going to stop nagging him about selling his Mercedes. Sooner or later, he's going to realize: he can't afford it. I'm simply not going to write checks for non-essentials. Today he went to the grocery store and DIDN'T buy steak or lobster.

I've been getting the cold shoulder. "I didn't know you were so awful," is a phrase that has been repeated maybe a tad too frequently. I have restrained the impulse to reply "I didn't know you were a spendthrift used douchebag." Oops, maybe the fact that I'm just a little peeved is showing through? Ya think?

The Foilparents, although 25 years divorce and in general loathing one another, have coordinated so that the Foilkid gets picked up in Canada and has a nice summer vacation on the coast of Maine with her adored and worshipped (God of her idolatry) 13-year old cousin who is a really good sport and plays with her. I so owe my Mom, Dad, and Sister, who have been emailing so much that internet traffic from the U.S. to Europe has been noticeable slower.

Now all I have to do is finish the project (independent contract, not the new job) that is due for my independent work. They want a meeting Monday. No way I am ready. Grrr. Arrrgh. Hey, I wrote papers throughout college in one late night with lots o' caffeine. Why should this be any different. For a political theory class that I had blown off, I got an A- (in the days before grade inflation) about my cat as a political animal. So I can cough something up.

Also, I have a real interview in early August.