Deferred Home Maintenance

Deferred maintenance. It was always, until we have the money. Until we have a chance to discuss it. Until we have a chance to prioritize. Don't make any decisions on your own.

Now I'm dealing on my own with ten years of built up problems. It's easier not having to discuss in depth with another adult. It's harder to manage on my own, though, calling contractors, making appointments, comparing estimates, with everything else on my plate.

I'm living in a broken home.

Also not impressed with the whole contractor business. Lots of recommendations from friends in the area, but so many of these guys are not showing up for appointments, or showing up late, or not returning phone calls. Guess they don't want my business, but it's still irritating.

Deep breath. Fix leaky roof. Get toppling trees trimmed. Then on to less urgent things.

One day at a time.

Love Letters

Sorting through old photos and cards last night and today. I have a whole stack of pictures of big happy family, and no sign in his face that he was ready to bolt. The love letters are more interesting: gushing or thoughtful early on and through the first few years of marriage, then minimal or absent after baby #1 arrived, usually a storebought card with a few words scribbled.

I think he couldn't handle being a dad.

He's Disneyland Dad now but it spares him the burden of having conversations with them when they're mesmerized by electrons.

I pulled out a bunch of photos for him. Too many baby pictures of everyone anyway; I kept the best (hey, I'm the family photographer and I'm doing the scut work here) and gave him the ones with him and the duplicates.

I'm considering what to do with the love letters. Every other breakup I've given them back.

I could
1) Shred them and recycle
2) Give them back now
3) Give them back when papers are served or the divorce is final
4) Burn them (maybe a New Year's Eve bonfire?)

He told me he loved me. In writing. Repeatedly. And that he'd love me forever. That he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.

Doing better, and moving on.

Rubbing in my Face

Mr. Gone was in California "visiting his mom" this past week and "vacationing with the kids." So MIL took all the kids to stay with their cousins, a four hour drive away, for the bulk of the week. Mr. Gone had maybe two meals with his mom and the kids, and was on his own in his mom's house the rest of the week.

He posted a series of pictures on Facebook that are reminiscent of the Charlie Sheen partying with women hanging off of him paparazzi pictures that were making the rounds during the worst of his craziness. The kicker is that these were all high school classmates of his. He started to get weird right after he went to his high school reunion a year ago last April.

Do the dots connect?

I'm very sad that he blew up his family for this. Whether it's unresolved aging issues, unresolved adolescent issues, unresolved daddy issues, I really thought that I married a better man than that. He needs help. He's told me repeatedly that counseling is a crock.

I've spent the past couple of days very angry at him, and at the situation. I'm trying to move forward and focus on myself, and started to drag some of the attic office furniture down to clear the space so I can find a tenant and stay in the black. I've also set up appointments with a number of contractors for roof repair and all the other things this house needs done that Mr. Gone was "going to get around to."

Just deep breathing in the face of extreme stupidity.

Moonstruck: Why do Men Chase Women?

Because they fear death.

http://www.imdb.com/video/hulu/vi2883609/

Olympia Dukakis has it all figured out. I don't think I'm going to get a "Ti amo" at the end of my movie, sorry to say.

Harry Potter vs Twilight Meme

Some fun.

I have always loved Hermione. The girl who finds all her answers in books, has bad hair and stuck-out teeth (but probably does grow up as pretty as Emma Watson) is my soul sister and a kindred spirit. I'd probably opt for Ravenclaw myself but honor her Gryffindor courage.

Just another reason to love Harry Potter's heroine.

Jumping through Financial Aid Hoops

Just finished my online financial aid counseling. I remember my first counseling session, when we all came to this large room somewhere on the University campus and got a long, boring lecture. This time round at least I was in my home with a kitty to pet and a glass of wine to sip.

Found the sections on budgeting/living expenses hilarious! Yes, maybe if I was 20 I'd need to cut down on my cell phone expenses and eating out. At this point in my life though there's not a lot I don't know about living on a shoestring.

I am having brief second thoughts about going back to career #1. It would probably cost me about 6 months tuition to get enough Continuing Ed hours to get recertified. Then I'd have to find a job in the not-really-growth field. This job would have mediocre benefits and mean I'd be working most weekends.

New field means: university job with tuition benefits or fed/state/city job with other benefits. 9-5 Monday-Friday workweek. Growth field. Something I'm interested in and passionate about as opposed to burned out on. Is it worth 40K to do this? Yes, the benefits alone are worth 40K.

Deep breath. Borrowing a big chunk of money always makes me nervous.

Now, the question is, can I repay it before Thing 1 heads off to college? Probably not. He'll need to go to a need blind school, get a scholarship, but he has options. Maybe MIL will come through. I wouldn't count on that.

But given the alternatives, this seems like the best path.

Help for First Few Days Post Bomb Drop

Looking back at the first few days and weeks post Bomb Drop, here are some of the things that helped me.

First 48-72 Hours Post Bomb Drop
You've been dumped by the person you trusted and loved and vowed to. You're the walking dead. Pain pain pain pain pain. It. Hurts. So. Much. Someday it will hurt less, but you have to survive. Go into survival mode. Nest. Text your girlfriends.
Eat, whatever you can get into you, but something with calories. Drink water. Walk outside for a few minutes every day. Breathe. Get as much sleep as you can. Rescue Remedy, the economy sized bottle. BE CAREFUL not to hurt yourself falling down the stairs, in a car accident, with sharp objects. Your brain is so full that it's very easy to have an accident. Be gentle. Skip out on all responsibilities you can possibly avoid. Take a day off work, you are sick. Wallow. Order out pizza for the kids. Avoid alcohol and drugs.

72 Hours Post Bomb Drop
CYA. Cover Your Behind.
1) Mental Health: find a counselor.Friends are great, but a good counselor will help you to move forward.
2) Financial Health: get copies of EVERYTHING. Mortgage, bank statements, bills, credit card statements, retirement accounts, wills, Keep it with a friend, in a safe deposit box, somewhere other than your home.
If you have a joint account, move at least a month or two of living expenses into a savings account in your own name. This is an emergency fund. Don't spend it, but keep it for backup. Open up a checking account in your name only too, and move some money there. Keep copies of all the paperwork.
3) Find three family practice lawyers and consult with them. Organize your paperwork from step 2 before the consult. Find out what you are fairly entitled to. Lawyers are expensive, but you, especially if you have kids, are about to negotiate the biggest contract of your life. You need someone professional in your corner.
4) Disengage. No contact. You miss him and you want to see him. You want to make him change his mind. Don't do it. If he wants you he knows where to find you. You can't start healing until you let him go.

Your life has changed. It's not your fault. But you can choose how to respond, to make things better for yourself. Good luck to you.