Wednesday, May 25, 2011


Fella likes to ask me questions about my day- he asks all about my co-workers, their spouses and lives, and always wants to know about my cases and clients. 

I don't know so much about his people.  Or his job.  Or his daily work life.  Not cause he doesn't want to tell me, I wouldn't think, but mostly I don't really ask. I mean, I ask if he had a good day, but I don't really get into things that happened at his office.  And lots of times he'll ask me questions about my friends or co-workers or family members, and I don't know the answer.  Especially about their spouses/friends and what those people do for jobs. This is not something I'm apparently too concerned with. 

His brain is always working to find a way to relate to people, to talk to them, to get to know them.  Mine... notsomuch.  If we are out in public, and from far across the crowded park or arena or restaurant, he sees someone he knows, he will go out of his way to make sure to say hello to that person.  Even if that person would never have known he was there, and isn't someone that Fella is super excited to see.  On the other hand, I will often literally HIDE from someone I know so I can avoid talking to them, even if I like them just fine.

I would rather send fifty emails or texts than pick up a telephone and call someone. I avoid telephone calls in my personal and my professional life.  Even my mother, my sister, P and Katie know that calling me is a waste of time, because I hate it. And I LOVE the Facebook and Twitter (and the blogosphere, obvs), but I avoid actual, in person conversation, and I don't relish (okay I loathe) social events and activities where I have to do my makeup and dress cute and then be friendly and cheerful with people that aren't in my intimate circle.

When I was younger I was always a people person.  I was the life of the party. I was everybody's friend.  So did I change? Or was that not the real me? 

And it's not that I HATE people.  I like people. I just prefer them to be not in my actual physical presence.  Unless they are people with whom I am comfortable enough to wallow on the couch, eating snacks, and (silently) watching TV.

So I guess it's all about the effort I'm required to expend to be around someone, and that makes me feel lazy, and then guilty for being lazy, but not guilty enough to change my laziness, because it is me and it is mine and it's what makes me happy.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011


Yesterday I was at the courthouse, getting a client divorced.

It's what I do. Often.  It doesn't take long, when it's uncontested, and all the details have already been ironed out.  It's a matter of a few questions and a Judge's signature. And his whole life is different.

One after another, one party would stand up, testify to how they lived in this county, wanted a divorce, believed their settlement was fair, and that was that. The other person doesn't even have to be there. It's such a short, easy process that is not remotely indicative of what is actually happening under the surface in most cases.

While I waited for my case to be called, I was just struck with the strongest feeling.  I do NOT want to ever be there again.  Of course, duh, nobody sits and thinks how she can't wait for her next divorce, but I had this gripping feeling in my chest, I really, REALLY do not want to ever have to go through that again.

At least I know I would survive, which I want to tell clients sometimes, but they don't really believe me.  Come at me with what you will, I know there is truly no shit in the world you can throw in my path that I can't climb over.  But sweet Lord I don't want to. 

If you have read here before, you know that my two divorces were not shockers.  I can site multiple examples of pre-wedding instances that should have caused me to run the other direction. I have not done so completely here, because it's mortifying and ridiculous and I'm ashamed of it. 

So I look at Fella with a critical eye. And despite the stomach churning I feel when I think of getting divorced again, I don't fear moving forward with him. The flags are green.  It's a good decision. When I approach it from an entirely non-romantic perspective it makes sense, which is a test neither of my previous marriages would pass. I spent last week in Mexico with P talking about it- Us both trying to figure out what's wrong with the idea, and not really coming up with anything, other than my bad decision-making in the past and the accelerated speed he and I have reached this level of discussion.

Yesterday after court I coincidentally had an appointment with my therapist and I told her how I was taken aback by the feeling that morning.  And how desperately I want to avoid that hurt. And how yet I still want to get married again.  And I asked her the question you're probably asking yourself about me right now. "Am I CRAZY?" 

And she said no.

And then she said, "well, you're crazy, but that's not why."