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Sunday, October 20, 2013

seventeen years. . . of what?

D and I went out for our 17th wedding anniversary. The night was punctuated by me being unhappy. He tipped 30 % becasue I sent my salmon back. So dinner was a dissappointment. Then we went to smoke cigars. (Our time in the cigar bar would have been far more appealing sitting beside someone else). Buying boxes was fun but they needed a humidore to keep the cigars in for they were very dry. Afterward all hell broke lose and it is another experience that is best forgotten. It will be hard to forget this is our last anniversary. I will never be with anyone else long enough to reach 17 years nor will I raise children with anyone else. I will divulge that information gleaned from D made me all the more determined that he be removed from the chidren's lives. If my medication didn't keep me so numb, I would have to throw up. I will be far more inquisitive of people I let into my life. I found out things about him---OH GOD. He didn't have a chance and his chance with me was destroyed becasue of what he has lived. I cannot overlook it. Anyone with common sense would have gottem themselves out of the predicament that was my engagement because they would have realized that if the sight of someone raises your hackles then you may not want to be around them. I am going to continue on my medication since it enables me to remove myself and remain aloof until he is served. I have put all my paperwork in and have gradually moved down my extensive list of things to do so that I am prepared to be in charge of everyone and actually get them to cooperate. If we can get this house in Mimi order--I will consider my efforts successful. They should be here at any moment.

Here is the shortest way to express the mood for number 17:


What ia missing is more important than what is depicted. The girls loved the cigar boxes and I am going back to get some more. Iz took 4 and Gwen two leaving me with 2. I am also looking on ebay to see if they sell and what ones are worth the most. I got some great boxes and as much as I know that cock roaches love boxes, I cannot part with them. Speaking of, I killed white baby roaches today which precipitated research. I am doing everything I can to not think about my waking dreams. I kept trying to hug H3 and my arms were only grasping air. Thank God for Klonipin. It took two and pacing to bring my heart rate down. We were sharing a room together on Wimbledon Dr--something we never did. I am sure the fighting beween the girls and who is going to share with whom brought this about. None wanted to compromise. In a family this size, that cannot be. Just another issue to write down. . . . My Action list never shortens. I have dentist appt's again. I was sure we just completed them!