Footloose and Fancy-Free!

I’m not footloose and fancy-free at this exact minute, but in less than 24 hours I will be. I’m already hyperventilating over going to the courthouse and standing before a judge. I’d rather go under the knife for a craniotomy, or run naked through the streets. There’s just nothing quite as intimidating as a courthouse.

These are the times in life in which I wish I could send a facsimile of myself. There’s a lot of times that would come in very handy. Maybe someday the technology will be developed to make that happen, but until then I have to face a judge and try to remember my name.

I know one thing that is sure. There’s no way in hell I’d ever go through this again. I’m content with my cat. I literally feel like throwing up when I think about dating again. I don’t know why anyone in their right mind would ever get remarried. The whole idea of marriage is just downright ridiculous when you think about.

Maybe marriage should be like a lease instead of a final sale. Every so many years you get the chance to decide if you want to renew the lease again, or join the Peace Corps. There could be annual performance reviews, and early termination clauses. What other contract locks us into eternal misery? We’re not forced to keep the same car after the motor stops working, it gains 400 pounds, or refuses to get a job. Why is marriage different?

Death till us part was doable when people lived to the ripe ole age of 32. For most of human history, people were much more concerned with the very real prospect of dying from a rotten tooth, drinking contaminated water, starving to death, freezing to death, or being eaten alive by a wild animal. A crappy marriage hardly made the top-10 list of major complaints and concerns.

Besides, back then you could easily kill a spouse and make it look natural. People were dropping dead all the time. Divorce wasn’t necessary when you could just serve poisonous mushrooms to your husband and get away with it. You could walk into work and tell everyone your husband died last night and if they even bothered to ask how, you could say, “He had a bad tooth.” They’d reply. “Oh, that happened to my husband too. Which mushrooms did you use?” Oh, the good old days!

There’s one good thing about all this. My nervous energy has been productive today. I’ve already gone on a 20-mile bike ride, mowed the lawn, did the laundry, cooked lunch (okay it was just a frozen dinner), and I’m getting ready to go grocery shopping. Tonight, I’ll probably scrub the grout, mop the floors, vacuum the carpets, repaint the living room, and rewire the fuse box. And then, another 20-mile bike ride.

This is horrible! Ugh. Being footloose and fancy-free so far is feeling like a noose. Maybe tomorrow it will feel different. I hope so.

Update: We went to court and were dismissed by the judge within about 1 minute because we hadn’t completed a parenting class that we thought we could complete after the divorce. So, it’ll be this fall before we’re officially divorced. So aggravating!

But at least I know what to expect in the courtroom now. I watched couples before us get divorced, and it only takes about 10 minutes. It’s very anticlimactic. I was expecting gut-wrenching drama, a cinematic musical score, and the releasing of live vultures for the flyover finale. Nope. It was a quiet fizzle with couples walking out like they just renewed their license plates.

In every practical sense we’re already divorced, though legally we’re not. It kind of feels like wearing an ankle bracelet before total freedom is granted. It is what it is.

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