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Things I have done since the split
By Suzanne Strazza
Bought a brown velvet couch.
Bought a table that I painted red.
Yelled at several nice people who tried to help fit the brown couch and soon-to-be-red table into the back of my Subaru using words along the lines of, “I am getting divorced! I have to do this all by MYSELF. Dammit! But thank you anyway.”
Feng shui-ed all traces of the past out of my bedroom. My bed is now under the windows so I can look at the stars all night since I am not sleeping. I filled the gaps with a giant television and the brown couch.
Bought new sheets. They’re blue. And organic. And clean. And All Mine.
Tried to get a puppy, but I couldn’t find the right one. Got a kitten instead.
Shopped in Durango while unbeknownst to me, blood trickled down the bridge of my nose from a recently embedded claw of said kitten.
Bought myself a fluffy bathrobe.
Got a prescription for Xanax.
Googled at least five ex-boyfriends but chickened out on contacting them. They are ex for a reason.
Freaked out about who will get the boat.
Rearranged all the furniture and hung Christmas lights. Feng-Shui-ing again.
Called my mother 350 times.
Cleaned out my files, figuring that if I couldn’t control the chaos in my life then maybe I could at least appear to have my shit together. Discovered there is not a hanging file for “icky feelings.”
Downloaded all of my favorite music from before I was married, then danced around the house singing.
Discovered that half the music really isn’t that good – it only sounded that way when I was stoned.
Walked 562 miles (and still walking).
Scrubbed the toilets trying to flush away ALL of the s#$% in my life.
Had two skin cancers and a wart removed – trying to burn the remaining s#$% out of my life.
Took the wedding pictures off the walls.
Gave the wedding ring (which I was allergic to and which made my finger bleed) to my 10-year-old son so he can play Lord of the Rings.
Got a Divorce Ring.
Contacted a man that I have always had a mad crush on.
Didn’t get contacted back by said man.
Interlibrary-loaned 89 books on surviving divorce.
Became an overnight Buddhist. Considered becoming a Catholic or a Jew.
Called my mother again.
In a total fit of anger, cleaned out the garage so that I can actually park my car there. Had six sheets of plywood fall on my head, tweaked my back, found seven random kids’ socks frozen to the cement and when I saw the boat frame, freaked out again about custody of it. I am also hoping that my car will now start if it has a warm place to sleep, because if I have to spend another four hours trying with no luck to get the damn motor to turn over, I am going to hurt someone.
Bought a vibrator.
Wondered, often, why I hadn’t bought a vibrator before.
Dyed my hair (That’s no surprise.)
Watched two full seasons of “Private Practice.” One full season of “Thirty Something,” but only one because I couldn’t get past the shoulder pads and scrunchies. I watched five seasons of “Gray’s Anatomy,” five of “House,” but decided that that needed to stop because I was figuring out what ailed the patients before Hugh Laurie did. I moved on to “Bones” and started fantasizing about Republican FBI agents (frightening) then watched two seasons of “Big Love” and fantasized about marrying a polygamist in Sandy, Utah (really really frightening). The last season of “Brothers and Sisters” I finished in two nights. And, yes, I had thoughts about Republican senators and gay older brothers, and finally moved on to Cisely, Alaska, day one when Dr. Fleischman arrives despondently to begin his medical career.
Thought about moving to Cisely; obviously Joel’s pleated khakis and feathered hair don’t bother me like the aforementioned shoulder pads.
Listened to “I kissed a girl” 53 times and thought that it sounds like a pretty good idea.
Fantasized about my perfect man: Rich and Foreign. Concluded that the only one like that I will come up with here in Montezuma County is a Mexican cocaine dealer.
Upped my Prozac.
Said F#$% at least 2,147 times. Found out how many incredible friends I have.
Wondered why… I’m not that nice.
Bought a coffeemaker with a timer because he used to bring me coffee in bed every morning and getting up without the coffee is bad for everyone: me, the kids, the dog, cats, the neighbors and particularly my co-workers.
Paid bills for the first time in five years. Came unglued about how expensive it is to take a hot shower these days.
Cleaned out the refrigerator. Threw out all of the condiments I don’t like.
Discovered four half-used bottles of ketchup way in the back, next to the three unopened jars of curry paste. He hates curry.
Made a lot of bitter greens – he hated those too.
Discovered that when you make a very small change on your Facebook status it can have a very large ripple effect.
Lost my credit card out of my back pocket when I stopped to pee on the side of the highway somewhere in the middle of Nowhere, Utah.
Took a run in my neighborhood, priding myself on how together I am. Stopped to chat with a neighbor and to assure him of how well I am doing. Looked down as I sprinted off and saw not one but two socks static-clinging to my pants leg.
Realized that maybe I don’t have a handle on this.
Ran over my boss’s dog (definitely do not have a handle on this).
Did I mention Xanax?
Suzanne Strazza, newly single, writes from Mancos, Colo.