I am not proud of what I am about to tell you.
Last night, I had a puppy training class with our five-month-old coonhound, Ellie. Ellie is a sweet girl, with too much energy and too little manners. She's got a whole hell of a lot of potential, which is why I chose to keep her over my husband. But that's beside the point. The class went fine. Ellie had played with four other dogs, and even tired a bit - or so I had hoped. I left the class in a good mood, the rest of my evening scheduled out: go home, eat dinner, go to sleep. When I reached my car, I checked my phone. Four missed calls. All from my husband. All during the time I had told him I'd be in the class. I sighed. Then the phone rang again, and noticing it was HIM, I answered.
Apparently, he had forgotten his keys at work, and needed me to pick him up at the train station. I groaned inwardly, but what choice did I have? Tell him to take a taxi (or a hike!)? No. But here was my dilema. I didn't have enough time to bring the dog home, and I didn't want to bring her with me. She's lovely, really, but her driving skills are lacking, and she always, always, tries to drive. In the end, I sacrificed my sanity and a healthy dinner for a dangerous, stressful car ride and fast food. It was what happened on the way to the station that confirmed my previous decision.
I was on the phone, complaining about what I had to do. Complaining about my 'idiot' husband, the 'moron' who left his keys at work, the 'jackass' who was inconveniencing me. Pure venom spilled from my lips. And I thought, if my friends who doubt my decision could hear me now, they'd probably offer to help pay my legal fees. Seriously, the way I was feeling was NO way for a wife to feel about her husband. Or for a friend to feel about another friend. That's the thing, though. Had it been anyone else, I probably would have been happy to help. But not him. Not anymore.
Any doubts in my mind were silenced last night. And considering as how I meet with the attorney today, it was perfect timing.
-- baby girl
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