I think I left my laptop at the BFs house. Funny how I haven’t noticed until now. That means this post, written entirely with my thumbs, will be short.
Today was a big day. I sold my Shasta trailer after coming to terms with the fact that it just didn’t make sense to have it. I will never have a vehicle that can tow it and I don’t want to rely on a man to get it out of the driveway because I sure as hell can’t. I posted it in several marketplaces and immediately got offers.
One potential buyer, Ed, sent me a full-price offer and a contract. I immediately glazed over at the sight of legalese and handed my phone to BF to make sense of it.
“It looks like a pretty standard contract to accompany a down payment but you should definitely not sell it to him. After his name he wrote ‘Make America Great Again’”.
I decided to slow walk it and meanwhile a nice couple from Fort Collins approached me about the Shasta and made a full-price offer. They may very well be Trump supporters but they had the good sense to keep it to themselves if they were. Today I sold it to them and sent this message to MAGA Ed.
It felt good.
Then I ran inside to have my final divorce hearing via video chat. It’s our second this week as the first one was rescheduled after we amended our paperwork again. I think being sent back to redo our work took the sting off of the moment because we were just so happy to have finally gotten it right. But the upshot is the same, we are now divorced.
Truth be told it doesn’t change much. We are still living under the same roof, raising our kids, existing together somewhat peacefully, and that’s good. But there is a closing of the book. The ending of an era. I will continue to disentangle our lives and finances, made possible now by being divorced. I can have my rental license, I can earn enough to pay my own way. And I will hand more of the Airbnb management responsibilities over to him so he can see for himself if indeed, “everything will work out”
with no action on his part. I can stop taking responsibility for his life and feeling resentful about it.
I don’t want him to fail but I sure would like him to appreciate my work all these years.
It also casts a different light on me and BF. Not profoundly but still, when we started dating I was still married, though separated. Now I’m not. It makes us feel oddly more serious. Like there is more at stake. More potential. More to lose.
I helped Lonny flip the apartment for the next guest because Casey (Itchy) is backpacking with the Scouts. I drove five hours to drop him off the night before. I always enjoy driving places with him, it’s a great opportunity to talk.
Anyway, after all the business of today was over I took the most epic nap of my life. The last few weeks have been fraught with terrible sleep and panic attacks. My eyelid has been twitching non-stop. I slept like I was dying.
Now I’m getting ready for a weekend camping trip to Calwood. It’s been a few years and I’m going with BF, Micah (Scratchy) and a couple other families. BF promised to set up a beautiful camp for me and I am looking forward to watching the kids play, hike, fish, and swim. Also cards by lamplight and drinking whiskey and laughing.
I’m looking forward to unplugging. I deactivated my Instagram account and am taking a break from all social media. The latest Women Supporting Women challenge was the last straw. I started seeing women posting black and white photos of themselves with the hashtag #challengeaccepted and got curious.
The thought that posting a selfie is somehow a challenge and will do anything to promote social justice is just the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Not to mention how exclusive and clique-ish it is.
Someone dug into where this started and it turns out it originated in Turkey to protest women being murdered by their intimate partners.
But of course it has been turned into another opportunity to look hot for the camera. Now I am perhaps the most guilty of posting curated photos of myself on social, but I’m not pretending that I’m making the world a better place. Actually, I’m stroking my own ego and getting positive feedback from friends, but I don’t think I’m promoting social justice by doing so.
Now I’m sure no one actually thought it through that much when they accepted the “challenge” but it was the last straw with social media. Kind of like how Trump being elected was what made me break it off with Facebook.
I’ve felt so overwhelmed lately and like there is no time for me to engage in meaningful self care. But then I get my weekly screen time stats and I realize that there is plenty of time, I’m just wasting it scrolling. Just the way beauty magazines stoke the fires of insecurity to turn us into consumers and dieters rather than loving ourselves, social media lulls us into thinking we have strong connections and are using our voices towards making change.
So I deactivated my account and deleted the app. I might be back when I have better perspective and a healthier relationship with the screen, but it sure isn’t now. Also, Facebook (who owns Instagram) is partly responsible for Trump getting elected. Twitter gives him a platform. None of the fuckers running them are willing to take a stand as America circles the drain. So fuck them.
I should be sewing, writing, reading, making pottery, creating a vocation, and connecting with my friends IRL. Like this evening when I went to Tabby’s farm for a walk.
I have friends I use social to keep up with but no one will miss me for a few months. Or maybe ever.
I need my real life to align with my values. We are going to be in this crazy COVID space for the long haul, my mental health has to be good.
I took Casey to the pediatrician for his well-child check-up. He grew 5 inches in 15 months. His doctor was relieved to hear I’m not enrolling them in in-person learning.
I have to keep being creative or I’ll go nuts.
Ok. Time to put down the tiny screen and exercise and go to bed with a good book. I just finished this one, it was great.