I had exchanged about three emails with one of the more normal (read: not spam) people who contacted me on Match.com, when he asked if I wanted to meet up for coffee. I was not ready to meet at all (nor do I drink coffee), so I put him off by explaining I was busy with a move (which, legitimately, I am). I then made some comment about how I had 12 boxes of books alone.
He responded with, “Well, you could always donate the books to charity.”
Donate the books. MY books.
MY PRECIOUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!
He doesn’t know it, but he just completely, utterly, blew whatever chances he had with me.
I know he was probably just trying to be helpful. But…my books. My beloved books, even the ones I hate, are not being donated or given away or sold or ANYTHING. Some of them have tape all over the spines from multiple readings as a child (and, um, as an adult), and I would not even be able to make the transition to a new edition in which, god forbid, the text might not break at the same place at the end of each page.
My books were very nearly the first thing I packed, and even now, with me flitting through the house randomly picking up objects and dropping them into boxes, I still made time to go to the library because I need books. I NEED THEM. People, if there were no libraries, I would just live in Barnes and Noble and even begin to drink coffee simply so I had an excuse to stay there longer. MY PRECIOUSSSSSSSSSSS!!
I’ve never spent much money on myself, which is a good habit to have now that my household income has dropped by two-thirds. But the costs associated with creating a second household and moving from a 2800 square foot three-bedroom home to a 600 square foot one-bedroom apartment have begun to add up.
Although Chris told me to take whatever I wanted from the house, we bought a lot of new furniture specifically for this house when we moved in here last year. None of it can fit into an apartment. And while it would have been cheaper for me to take our old furniture, I wasn’t thrilled about surrounding myself with what I call the dregs of our life together, the stuff we had essentially discarded.
So furniture was a priority. My cousin Diana was kind enough to make a last-minute trip to visit me when I suddenly realized there was no way I could possibly face the vastness of Ikea on my own, not without collapsing into a ball of anxiety. But as she pointed out, she might not have been the best person to help me with furniture.
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I never thought that I could hate so much someone I used to love so much, or that I would join Match.com, or even that my ass could hurt so much from that narrow little spinning bike seat. You learn something new every day.
And also? What’s up with “winking” at people on Match? I’ve got news for you — emailing is already so removed from putting yourself out there that if you have to resort to WINKING, then you, sir, are a coward.
I think I just updated WordPress, but I’m not totally sure. All I did was hit a button that said, “upgrade automatically” and then….nothing happened. So I logged back in and the site looks like it’s been updated.
I don’t trust it.
I’m off to NYC this weekend to visit Cousin Terry, and the goals are twofold:
- To get into her Saturday spinning class on a guest pass. Having never joined a gym, I simultaneously fear trying it out on my own but also have a pressing need to see how riding an exercise bike could possibly require an instructor. You can’t just get on and go?
- To get her to update my WordPress yet again. Ah, WordPress — how I love your ease of use and despise your numerous and constant upgrades!!
or, How a Gentleman Divorces His Wife
- Gently introduce your spouse to the idea that there may be problems in the marriage by saying, “I want a divorce.”
- Inform her that you don’t regret the marriage at all, and add that alimony is unacceptable.
- Wait until you go to couple’s therapy to announce, “I don’t see any way we can work this out.”
- Respect her emotional needs. When she says she may need to check into a psychiatric hospital, respond by asking, “Am I supposed to visit you?”
- Tell her it’s not her fault. Tell her it is her fault. Decide it is your parents’ fault.
- Firmly restrict any attempts at communication by pointing out she is trying to control you. Let her know that you already have female friends and co-workers you’ve been talking to, who have helped you clarify how you want to be out of the marriage.
- Say you might not be able to buy her out of the house you want to keep. Also, mention that you might buy a motorcycle.
- Bolster her self-esteem by telling her that her newfound independence might be more attractive to you. Because her life and her choices are always about you.