Wow, three blog posts in one day. To my subscribers (few, but loyal) I apologize for all the emails. But thing have been moving along at a good clip today.
the f*cktard my husband came out of the bathroom this evening and says, a bit defensively I might add, “I’m going to *undisclosed state* in September. I don’t know for how long, but I’m going.”
Now, I know he’s going to visit
the bitch his girlfriend. What the hell am I supposed to do about that?
I cannot move out yet. That is out of the question. I have no job, no money and no resources. I have to stay here. As much as it pains me to say it, I can’t get away from this dickhead any faster than I’m managing right now.
Oh, believe me, I wish I could.
My first thought is to have the lawyer send a private investigator down and have pictures taken. I think that this is the best course of action. I don’t know if my state is a no-fault state, but I know that this will give me leverage with the military.
So, my second thought is to make sure I have copies of those pictures before he comes home. He keeps saying he’s so close to retirement and he’s looking forward to getting out of the military. Well, let’s make sure that the last few months of your time in the military are just peachy, huh? I’m feeling a no-contact order coming on and maybe a little threatening from the JAG.
My mother called me impulsive earlier tonight (which I sometimes am) but this one I have thought through. I want that no-contact order in place until our divorce is final. I definitely want it in place until I move out. Maybe I can send those pictures and her information anonymously. Then he won’t be able to link it back to me.
I can’t sleep at night because I dream of hurting him. The other night I rolled over and had to physically tense up so that I wouldn’t just punch him right in his big, fat nose.
Maybe I can have the military move him out until I move out. Maybe that would be a good way to do it.
Well, since we’re dreaming, maybe he’ll die in a fiery car wreck on the highway and we’ll get his life insurance. I’ll make sure to scatter his ashes over a sewage treatment plant.
It’s so much easier to be bitchy than weepy. It’s sure a hell of a lot easier on my eyes.
Like I said, this being forgotten stuff is hard. I just have to get through it.