Well, the divorce was finalized this week on Monday. Other than the circuit court’s office losing the parenting plan I submitted, it went smoothly. I walked in married, and walked out footloose and fancy-free. It didn’t feel that way, though. I didn’t do cartwheels down the steps of the courthouse or jump for joy. It was a bad ending to a 26-year marriage. Of course, he was giddy. I later found out he had a trip planned with his girlfriend to celebrate, I guess. I don’t know which girlfriend, but it really doesn’t matter. I’m just glad to put the absurdity and nonsense behind me.
Now I have my old name back, and honestly, it feels weird. It’s been 26 years since I signed with my old name. Maybe I should have taken a different name, like a pen name. It seems like after everything I’ve been through, learned, and endured I should come away with a more fitting name, like Joan of Arc, or Catherine the Great. My family’s last name was originally De La Haye, before it was Americanized 400+ years ago. I like that name a lot better! I also should be wearing a metal breastplate, while holding a spear charged by lightning on a mountaintop. But nope. It’s just plain ole Kris Hay holding a mop. Eh.
I am completely free to make any decision I want. Since he’s been out of the house for a few months, I had already felt some freedom, but not like I do now. The house is 100% mine to do with as I please, though that’s had its rough spots too.
All summer, I’ve been accumulating yard and garden tools. He took them all. Yes, I had a mower, but no gas can. I could trim the yard, if I had a weed whacker. I could trim the bushes if I had garden shears. I could take the fallen limbs to the curb, if I had a yard waste can to put them in. I could dig the weeds near the front sidewalk, if I had a shovel. I think you get the picture. I almost needed a GoFundMe account, so my yard wouldn’t look like total crap.
By now, I do have most of those items, but honestly I’m looking forward to some frosty nights to kill back all the vegetation. I can’t keep up at this point. Luckily, my neighbors seem to be understanding.
The flip side to all this freedom is that it is kinda overwhelming. It seems like I should be doing something far more important with my life, now that I’m in control. If I’m not happy with my life, it’s my own dumb fault. And, boy, I wish I could be happy with just a normal life, but I can’t. Maybe everybody feels like their destined for more, but I’ve always felt this way. I’ve got it good, really. I shouldn’t complain. The bills are always paid. My family and I are healthy. My business is doing well. The job is fine, but I’m still not content. I’m not sure what it is I want or need.
Well, I am sure I would be much happier if I was sharing my life with the love of my life. I’m not going to pretend that my cat fills the void. I sure hope he doesn’t read this. There are times it really stinks to be alone, but that’s a part of my life that I have absolutely no control over. There’s no degree that awards a perfect life partner. It sure would be nice if there was!
What I do have control over is my career and my involvement in the community. I should be going to day shift in a few months, which will help a lot. I just can’t do much with my life with second shift hours. For one, all the community meetings, and even rides with the bike club are in the evening. I can’t attend any of them. When I am home, I’m pooped. Second shift just isn’t good on a body or mind. I always feel like I’m out of the loop. Some people thrive working such hours, but I’m not one of those people.
Well, anyway, I’m just rambling on, but it’s been a big week with big changes. I’m me again. I’m in control. That scares me more than you could know.