Yesterday Marvin came over with our official separation agreement, and we had to go to a notary so no one would say, "She was COERCED into signing those papers! She was totally drugged."
So I shot up and off we went, to the UPS store, where they have a notary.
By the way our papers are hilarious.
Husband gets blue couch. Wife gets brown couch. Husband gets two cats. HOW MUCH ARE WE LOSERS? No, "Wife gets Maui home and husband gets Rolex." I shall be entitled to one cat, two dogs, 80 pounds of fur...
Oh. That's not part of my divorce papers. That's from the poop test I have to take.
I cannot even begin to describe for you the level of excitement the dogs had when Marvin merely pulled up in his car. WHINNNE! WHIIIIINNNNNNEEEEE! That was Edsel. Who has tons of dignity. He kept running in a circle around the dining room table because he was too excited to stand there.
I feel bad that my dogs are from a broken home. I was, and now they are.
The CIRCLE of LIFE!
You knew I had to do it. Look how totally over me Edsel is.
Anyway, off we went, Marvin and me, not Edsel and me, to the UPS store, where all marriages end. Special delivery! It's the end of your dreams of not dying alone!
So Mr. McFeeley or whoever witnessed my hand--and that is literally what it said, "Witness my hand," and to be funny I waved mine around a little for the guy--and stamped our paper.
Here's Marvin paying the guy to take me off his hands. WITNESS MY HAND.
Then we each got a dollar. I am not kidding you. For some reason we both got a dollar for dissolving our marriage. Had I known I was in for THAT windfall I'd have done this years ago!
When Marvin and I got our marriage certificate at the court house, for some reason they handed us this bag with a teensy travel-size deodorant, a small box of Tide, and a comb. The dollar was just as weird.
Here is dad in 1998, looking at my Newlywed Sampler. He wasn't super-short then, I took a picture from my little wedding album I made. Thank God I went to the trouble to make THAT thing. Nice spelling of "deodorant" on my part.
Afterward, Marvin and I went to lunch, as you do when you stop being married to a person. I had a BLT. He got french dip. I kept eating his, and it did not occur to him to say, "Stop eating my food, you're not my wife anymore."
Here I am at lunch. I look a little puffy. Unsure why. BLTs are famous for their antioxidant, make-you-slim qualities. Also, don't let me forget I can go back to this place to see some Nascar. You know I'm always on the lookout for a place to get my Nascar "fixin's."
Thank heavens. I abhor those super-complex napkins.
So that was it. After lunch I went home and did some proofreading. Getting married was way more fun because there was dancing and gifts. And, you know, hope. But what're you gonna do?
You take your dollar and you move along.