DQ Therapy

Well, the word is out. I officially told someone outside of my office that my husband and I are basically separated (even though we still live together, and will continue to, for those of you who care).

I anticipated that this would probably happen this year - hence my initial blog post telling you, my dear reader, that this year was going to be bad - but I didn't think it would be so soon. I figured I still had months before complete marital collapse.

There's a strange sense of relief in telling someone outside your immediate circle that your life is in the toilet. And you probably think this sounds weird, but there's a calm that has come over me since I stopped wearing my wedding ring. No more need to pretend, no more facade to pack around like Aunt Ruthie's old dresser.

My friend and I met at our usual therapy location - Dairy Queen. I ate a burger and fries and sucked down a Dr. Pepper like it was 110 in the shade. Must be the lack of junk food in my life lately...it was pretty darn good. Or maybe it was the company. Sheila - you rock.

Now I have details to address. The practical aspects of living together without living together are daunting. I don't have the energy or desire to think about that right now. I'm just going to ride this trans-fat wave for a few more hours, and maybe we can talk tomorrow. Good night, dear reader.