The New Year Arrived a Bit Early

I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions per se.  However, this year is so totally different all the way around for me that I am trying a couple of different things as I go about finding and/or creating the new me.

My new year/new life was forced on me by David’s behaviour, so I might just as well get on with it.

But where to start?

With my hands and fingernails, that’s where!

I’ve been trying to remember the things that were important and interesting to me back in my 20’s – high heels are out! – but I remembered how well I used to take care of my hands and nails.  I’ve never had a professional manicure, but my nails were always long, shaped and polished, up until I started typing full time, at which time they started to get much shorter.

Then I became a farmer’s wife.  Forget the nails!  Aside from a lack of time, there just wasn’t any point in having long, polished nails so I fell out of the habit of taking care of them.  The only time in recent years I’ve done anything with them is for my wedding in 2007.  I started taking care of them a month or two before the wedding and then got out of the habit again a couple of months after the wedding.

I’m not sure how much effort I want to put into it this time, either, but I want to give it a try just for me, not for a special occasion.

So today, I filed and shaped my nails, soaked hands and nails in warm soapy water, made my own sugar scrub and exfoliated my hands and nails well, used a cuticle cream on them and pushed the cuticles back, moisturised everything and then polished my nails.  My own little bit of pampering – that took about two hours!  My hands feel nice and soft, I now have more presentable hands (thinking professionally here), and I enjoyed watching “Mama Mia” while giving myself the manicure.

Does this mean I’ll start fixing my hair and wearing make-up everyday?  Let’s just see if I can actually take care of my nails for a few weeks.  I enjoyed that so much I might even try a pedicure, which would be another first.  The only person in living memory who was ever able to touch my feet without me cringing away was David – my dad must’ve tortured/tickled me on the fee when I was very young to have such a reaction – but David was trustworthy in that department – never tried to tickle them or cause me any discomfort – so maybe it’s time I started taking better care of them too.  After all, they serve me well!  I can’t imagine ever painting my toenails, but the skin on my feet is very dry due to the cold weather we’ve been having.  I’m sure they’d appreciate a little tender loving care.

New Blog Name as I Start a New Life

I thought it was time to take another step in separating myself from my relationship with David.  It appears that we may still be married for a while, and I have a lot of things to work through due to his utter disregard for me or his marriage vows, but that’s life, and I am slowly moving forward.

I know that I will come out of this a better, happier person – it is just going to take some time to deal with all the crap he left behind him when he did the ‘courageous thing’ and walked out on his marriage.  Those two words are in brackets because they actually mean he’s a coward, in case anyone reading this doesn’t get what I mean.

I wish David and Frances the best of luck – they’re going to need it.  David started a new relationship without ever finishing the old one.  He might think he finished it by abandoning the marriage, but, unless he’s an absolute idiot (which he may, indeed, be), it’s going to come crashing down around him unless he ‘gets right with himself.’  I doubt that he’ll ever make an effort to ‘get right with me,’ or whether such a thing is possible even if he tried.  Not only that, all my reading on different web-sites has taught me that relationships that started as affairs have a really tough time succeeding.

However, none of that matters at the moment.  Some thought went into the new name for this blog.  Even though I realise there will be a number of entries over the next few months that will deal with my difficulties in getting over the shock and betrayal of the way my marriage has ended, I shall also be making efforts to move on to a new and happier life.  I can only do that one day at a time – or one link in the chain at a time.  And that, too, will be something to write about!

Today has been a wonderful day for me, a weight feels lifted off my shoulders.  It’s almost worth it, camping out in this drafty, tiny flat to realise that I’ll never have to listen to David complain about his unhappy life ever again!  I just really think there was nothing I could do to make him happy because, of course, no one can make you happy but yourself; he seems to be a very unhappy person; I almost have pity for him, but not quite.  Instead, I’m looking forward to a new life that will be a real financial struggle, but eventually there will be light at the end of that tunnel.

‘It is a mistake to try to look too far ahead.’   There is nothing wrong with planning for the future, looking ahead and setting goals.  Unfortunately, David and I tried to plan a future that included moving to the US, a plan that was in the works for at least two years, and I allowed him to force us to put all other plans on hold.  We never really lived a life here in the UK because we were looking too far ahead, planning a different life.  So we made do with an old set of pots and pans, we made do with everything we had because, as David so often said to me, ‘we’ll get new when we get to America.’  And that man who convinced me (and everyone around him) that he hated his job, hates Birmingham, hates England, and only wanted to go to America with me is now, apparently happily living somewhere in Birmingham…way to go Frances!  I was the  stupid one to buy into that dream.  Maybe she’s smarter than me??  Or maybe she’s just bought into his latest dream.  His unhappiness is hiding just under the surface, waiting for the novelty of the new relationship to wear off.

I’m not dreaming anymore.  I’m forging my own destiny, one link in the chain at a time.

Recent Searches on this Blog

I think these two searches sort of say it all, don’t you?

‘how does one fall out of love’

‘if the respondent goes in hiding how to serve the divorece pitition uk’

I Killed The Smoke Alarm

When I moved into this place, I noted the smoke alarm on the ceiling right outside the bathroom door, without its cover on.  The cover was sitting on the little sill above the bathroom doorway.  I haven’t done anything with it, that is until last night.

I got home and, being in a bit of a hurry to try to make my appointment, turned the grill on in the oven (not the first time I’ve used it since moving in) and threw a nice, small steak in there.  Started chopping an onion to have fried onions with it, got a potato ready for the microwave when the smoke alarm started shrieking.  Loudly.  Non-stop, even though there was no smoke in evidence.

I raced into the bedroom to get my one and only sturdy chair and jumped up there to remove the battery, only to see a little sticker on the battery compartment that said ‘battery can not be removed’.  What???  I’m fanning away at the thing trying to get it to stop, when it did, finally, stop.

I went back to keeping an eye on my steak and my nearly burnt onions, when it started shrieking again!  Fanned it again, back to my cooking, it shrieked again.

By this time, I was getting so unnerved by the racket and my own general state of high tension that I ripped it off the ceiling!  It was attached by a sticky thing, and I tried desperately to figure out how to get the battery out of it.  I walked into the bathroom with it and ended up ripping the wires out of it!

It was still shrieking.

It was at this point that I started to realise that the sound wasn’t coming from this device.  I even held it up to my ear to check.  Nope, definitely not coming from this device!  So I threw it against the wall.  And left the bathroom, only to realise that the shrieking was coming from the ‘cover’ sitting on the sill above the bathroom door.  Pulled that down to find that it was not a cover, but a smoke alarm.  D’oh!  I took the battery out of it and went to eat my burnt on the outside/raw on the inside steak!

I think I can stick the wires back into the other one and stick it back up on the ceiling…no one will notice. 

Missed Counseling Appointment – Fed Up with the Buses!

For those of you who know me, don’t you think my life used to be charmed?  I was always so optimistic about everything, never seemed to have any problems with much of anything (for example, no one ever seemed to throw up or start fires on any bus I’ve ever ridden on!!).  Well, all that seems to have changed!  I’m feeling increasingly frustrated with things and just feel like nothing is in my control anymore. 

Through my company employee assistance program, I’d set up an counseling appointment for this evening at 8:30.  I would need to take three buses to get there (again!) and the venue is not that far from the hospital.  Leaving home by 7:15 would give me plenty of time to get there.

Wrong again!

I went to my nearest bus stop to catch a bus that comes every 15 minutes at that time of day…I could see I must’ve just missed one – this particular route is generally fairly good on time since it’s close to the beginning of the route – so I walked down to the next stop – it was too chilly to just stand there for almost 15 minutes.  But, I stood THERE for a lot longer than 15 minutes.  Half hour later, a driver came out from the nearby bus garage to tell me (and the 1/2 dozen other people waiting) that there was a problem this evening and it might be another hour before a bus came.  Great!

If I’d known that, I’d have walked up to the other side of the local park to catch a different bus and just taken a different route over, but it was too late.  I went home and got home after 8:00.  Called the counselor and left a message, feeling really down about it all.  I’m not sure I need counseling, that’s one of my questions for her, but I really felt down about it, so maybe I do.  Sigh.  She called me back a little after 8:30 and although she was understanding about it, she really stressed that she wanted me to attend the next appointment.  Well, yes, I mean, I would’ve walked the 7 miles there tonight if I’d known the frickin’ bus wasn’t going to show!!!  I was extremely angry with David all over again – it’s because of his behaviour that I’ve been put into this position in the first place.  In any event, I’ll be seeing her next Tuesday night at 7:30, and I guess I’ll just stay in the city centre that evening, since I have a choice of three or four buses going out from town in that direction…

I left a message on my in-laws’ phone tonight, too, just to let them know that I really hadn’t had much luck with the estate agent – no one ‘in command’ around today when I called, but the person I talked to confirmed the name of the agent who did the walk-through with David yesterday and took my information so he could call me back.  At 4:30, I sent him an email giving my permission for them to send the cheque to David.

Not long after I talked to the counselor, my father-in-law called me back, just to confirm that he’d got the message and that he’d spoken with David today, who confirmed that they haven’t had their phone or internet hooked up yet.  I can’t imagine him sitting in that house for the last two weeks without cable TV! My FIL was a little upset that the estate agents are giving us the run around, but we both agreed that they don’t know any of us and we supposed they’d have to be careful.  We left it at me giving him a ring to let him know when I do hear from the estate agent and what the news is either way.  I’m assuming they’ll just issue the cheque to David since I’ve specifically given permission to do it that way, in writing.

A Brighter Day?

I had the morning off to go to the hospital for another hearing test.  What a trip that was, getting there.  I take three different buses, the first and the last being just a few minutes.  It was that middle one that almost gave me an anxiety attack today!  The number 11!  I’m at the bus stop, expecting, like usual, to wait at most 6 or 7 minutes, but the electronic signposting thingy is saying 22 minutes for the next bus!

Luckily, it was wrong, I only waited about 10 minutes, but then, of course, traffic was s.l.o.w.  It was after 9:00, my appointment was at 9:30.  I also got off at the wrong bus stop and had to backtrack to get to the right bus stop.  In the meantime, every bus I know of that goes down Vincent Drive to the hospital went by!  With me trying to make it to a bus stop.  It wasn’t going to happen.  I was afraid to look at my watch.  But, I carried on, I walked as fast as I could and finally made it to the hospital.  Happily, it didn’t take me more than a few minutes to make it to audiology and the lady there wasn’t the least bit upset that I was late – it was 9:40.

She got me settled in and explained what was going to happen – basically, I had an electrode hooked up behind each ear and one on the top of my head, as well as some heavy duty ear plugs that delivered a tone.  I had nothing to do but sit and relax (and read the newspaper) while the test was going on.  It didn’t seem to take very long and she said it agreed quite well with the other tests I’d had, but the idea this time is that it can be used to custom make hearing aids.  She said it really is like a prescription for eye glasses.

When the test was done, she did impressions of each ear canal, which was also an experience – some cold waxy stuff going into the ear, and you can feel it harden and warm up in just a few minutes.  That, and the results of the test, will go back to the audiologist I saw a few weeks back.  I’ll be seeing her again and then I guess she’ll recommend whether I should try one hearing aid or two…

I was out of there and home by noon for lunch.  Today was the day David was supposed to be doing the walk-through with the estate agent, so I also took a walk towards the house on my way to the bus stop, but saw his dad’s car in the driveway, so turned around and went to a different bus stop. I can’t believe he couldn’t do the walk-through on his own, that Frances didn’t bring him to the house, or he didn’t just take the bus.  Whatever.

I had a short afternoon at work, aggravated by the inability to concentrate.  And then my mobile rang.  It was a counsellor from my employee assistance program, calling to set up a face-to-face counselling session!  Tomorrow night, 8:30 and it’s not really to far except, of course, I have to take more than one bus!

Not long after that, I checked my email and saw an email from the estate agent telling me that they couldn’t split the refund of the security deposit cheque unless David and I both signed a letter stating the same and, of course, they’d charge us £5.00 per cheque!  They needed to know what we want to do by the day after tomorrow.  It made me wonder what happened at the house today!

When I got home, I called David’s parents, which I needed to do anyway to give them my new phone number.  I talked to my FIL, who confirmed that he and David walked through the house today with ‘a young lad’ who said everything in the house looked fine.  David told him that refund cheque should be sent to him and that he’d then get my half to me.  The estate agent agreed, but apparently, when he got back to the office, that may not have been agreeable to anyone else.  My FIL will contact David to let him know what’s happening.  I told my FIL I’m fine with David doing things that way with the refund – he has my banking information for transferring funds in.  I also told FIL to give David my phone number and have him call me, I don’t think it’s fair that they have t be involved.  FIL said he would, and also told me not to worry about the money, David will refund me my share or he’ll have his dad to answer to!  I didn’t quite have the heart to tell FIL I trust HIM, but not David.  Sigh.

So, tomorrow, to phone up the estate agent and ask them if they’ll accept an email from me as my consent for the cheque to be refunded to David.  In spite of the scary thought that he’s going to have my share of the money in his hands, it WAS a brighter day.

A Senior Moment…Or Something Else?

Today started out horribly.  The sad thing is that I can’t quite remember why!!

Oh, let’s see, I wanted to light some candles – this flat still has a funny smell, and the candles seemed to help, but I couldn’t remember where I put the matches.  Thankfully, they were in the third place I looked.  Then, when I went shopping, i couldn’t find my grocery list – but it ended up being in the bag wth the first lot of groceries I’d bought.  Then, later, carrying my empty ‘onya bag’ for the next trek, I lost my bag!!  Luckily, I noticed quite quickly and only had to backtrack for a minute or so before finding it lying on the pavement, but needless to say, I was vexed and nearly in tears with frustration at myself.  I know (and hope and pray!) that problems like these are due to the situation I’m in and I hope things get better on that front as time goes by.

Part of my problem today was memories as well as forgetfulness.  I finished unpacking the last of my clothes yesterday and finding homes for everything (some in the trash!).  Today, I picked out a tunic-type long sleeved v-neck soft shirt.  And remembered.  David didn’t like the shirt, said it made me look frumpy.  Guess he likes a woman who likes to let her tits hang practically out of her shirt like some of the photos of Frances on Friends Reunited!

And then I was on the bus, heading in a different direction today than I usually do, a bus I don’t usually take, I wasn’t quite sure of the route.  But, all of a sudden, I knew where I was as we went past the wedding cake shop where we rented out cake stand and I bought the decorations for our wedding cake. 

And so it goes.  I’m afraid.  I’m afraid of EVERYTHING!  I’m afraid I’m losing my mind, I’m afraid I’m going to get sick from the stress of it all and then lose my job.  Even though I know logically that none of that is true, I’m having a helluva time dealing with it emotionally.  I also know that this day will pass and tomorrow will be better – or different at least – and I know that eventually I’ll go through these fears again, on a cycle until, finally, eventually, I’ll reach a different stage. Hopefully one where David becomes just a stranger who isn’t worth any more thought on my part than any other stranger I see on the street.

In the meantime, every morning when I wake up, I’m wound up tight as can be – this was going on before the move, so I know it’s not my bed.  I wake up tense, with tight shoulders.  Then, there’s the song in my head every morning when I wake up, which started after I watched ‘Sleepless in Seattle’ the second or third night I was in my new home.  I love the song, In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning, and love how Carly Simon sang it on the soundtrack, but it’s driving me bats!  Then, at different times during the day, Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word starts running through my mind.

The thing is, I don’t want David back…but I loved him.  How does one turn the love off?  Even if one is fairly sure that one has accepted the fact that it’s definitely over, there’s no going back and life is starting anew?  So, there are the loving feelings to deal with, or maybe that’s better described as ‘heartbreak’, there’s anguish, there’s anger, there’s a sense of disgust and shock, all of that roiling around inside me.  Ha, now that I associate him with all that, if he ever tried to come back to me, I’d probably puke on him!

I realise there are people in this world who are going through some terrible things in their lives that they have no control over.  I think the key phrase is ‘no control over’.  It’s the lack of control over your own life that is the most difficult, that something has been wrenched away from you, whether it’s health or whether it’s your happy life with the spouse you thought you loved.  When I think about things like that, when I look at my cousin Jean who has lived with terminal cancer for over 20 years and how she has learned to accept it, I know that I too will learn to accept this and I’ll move on and live a happy life again.  Jean would be one of the first to say she’s lived a happy life, it just wasn’t quite what she planned…

Wanted – A New Name for my Blog!

Tracy planted the idea, it’s germinating, slowly – the idea has definitely taken root, but no bright ideas have pushed through the surface just yet.

Although ‘My Grain’ has a double meaning – my grain or morsel of ‘wisdom’ about life (lol) and about D’s migraines (oh, let’s face it, why am I calling him ‘D’?  Don’t need to protect his privacy – the jerk’s name is David!), I am trying to distance myself from anything to do with David.

The new title can’t have anything to do with depression or despondency, and can’t be too sappily optimistic (like I used to be), but it does need to reflect something about the new life I’m heading into.

Any and all suggestions will be taken into serious consideration.  Need to give this one a lot more thought!

Conversation with My Mother-in-Law

This morning, after checking my email and finding out that I’d had no contact yet from the eBay winners of the washing machine and fridge freezer, I phoned my in-laws’ house, to let them know the results of the auction.  My mother-in-law answered the phone.  The point of the phone call was not just to give her the message about the appliances to pass along to D, but to let them know that I’d had no contact from my buyers as yet and, although I’d passed my mobile number along to them, I wasn’t sure if they would contact me by email or phone.  Therefore, if D wasn’t in a hurry for his modem, he’d maybe be willing to wait a few days.

I also wanted to let her know that D would be receiving a letter at their house from my solicitor.

What an interesting conversation!  As much as I love my MIL, one has to be careful when talking to her because she not only tells you everything she knows, she repeats everything you’ve said to the appropriate parties!  (Unlike my ex-MIL, this MIL at least usually gets it right.  The ex-MIL  just stirred up trouble).  So, I knew anything we talked about would eventually get back to D.

She told me that D wants me to keep the money from the sale to make up for moving costs.  Right, not gonna happen.  He’s going to get half if it kills me!  lol.  He’s not getting an opportunity to tell anyone that I cheated him out of anything (except possibly his damn fishing rods that my mother said one of his friends better come and get because she’s not lifting a finger to help him get them shipped back).

We talked about me moving and how she’s happy to come and do the last little bits of cleaning.  I haven’t told her I’ve already moved, but just left it at the fact that all my stuff will be out of here by the time the fridge and washer go (which is the truth!).  She wanted to hear about the flat and is looking forward to seeing it and worried about the amount of furniture I have and excited to hear about my cute little kitchen.  I don’t know when I’ll invite them over, but she knows there is an invitation coming up.  I told her I would be out of town at my uncle’s from Christmas Eve until the Sunday after Christmas and she sounded disappointed and asked me if I would arrange a time to come over either right before or right after I get back, to which I said ‘of course’.  She then told me that they were having Christmas at their house with just Paul, Amanda, the kids and Amanda’s mom.  D is not invited.  Obviously, he’s invited to stop by and be a part of the day, but he’s not allowed to bring her with him.

I have to say, for people who are not taking sides, hearing this made me quite happy.  Except, of course, their reasoning is that this is all too sudden and they are not ready to meet her or accept her – not yet.  I think they want to see what happens next!

She also mentioned the result of D’s doctor appointment last week – four more weeks, no driving, no work.  She made it sound like he may have handed his keys in to the estate agent, but she wasn’t sure.  I didn’t tell her this, but I’m sending him a letter, c/o them, telling him that I won’t be around for the final walk-through, that I’m writing to the estate agent to let them know they can contact him at his parents’ if he hasn’t already given them forwarding information.  Since he’s not working and I’ve already lost enough of my annual leave time due to his behaviour, he can deal with it.  Frances can bring him over here and she can do the walk-through with him!

I apologised for having to use their address to contact D since ‘Frances will Kill Me’ if he gives me the address.  Although she didn’t say specifically, I got the strong impression that he asked her not to give me the address should I ask…she just said the whole thing is so stupid, it’s not as if I really want the address.  They are also not all that happy at being go-betweens and are trying to talk him into giving me his address for divorce paper purposes!  So, I told her what the solicitor had to say, that it almost sounds like they would need the court’s permission to use the parents’ address, or that it would need to be explained to the court and that this may be one of the things my solicitor wants to talk to D about – or he may just be asking D to get his own legal advice to be assured how much easier it would all be if he just cooperates.

I also mentioned to her that, in the end, it’s not a big problem for me if we have to wait two years to get a divorce.  If Frances Marie Campbell is so stupid as to make it difficult for D to get a divorce, that’s her problem.  She can deal with having him attached to his wife for the next two years!  lol.  We both kinda laughed at that and she mentioned that she’d pass that message along too, that maybe that would help him understand that it’s much better to just get it over and done with.

All in all, an interesting conversation.  I’m sure D’s relationship with his parents has suffered but will, in some measure, recover – they’re his parents and they love him, after all.  If his relationship with Frances is successful, eventually they’ll accept her, which I personally hope they would do for family harmony if nothing else.  But, until such time as the two of them are a regular part of his parents’ life, I’ll do my best to keep in touch with his parents and let them know I care about them for their own sakes, not just as a dutiful DIL.  Aside from that being how I feel, I think it also falls into the category of the best revenge is living well.  ‘Living well’ includes my relationship with his parents, and I’ll do my part in helping keep that relationship going.

Another First for me in the UK

Seeing a solicitor about a divorce, that is.

During my first six months in the UK, it seemed like whenever I did anything ‘for the first time’, it was almost as though I had an anxiety attack and needed to go home and sleep afterwards.  And I’m talking about simple things like buying stamps or a pair of shoes – all things that I’d done when I was a visitor to the UK!

I guess I’ve really settled in.  I was only slightly nervous about seeing a solicitor.  But, he put me at ease and made it all seem quite painless.  He was younger than me (probably mid-30’s) and quite relaxed – wearing a suit, but the jacket was slung over a chair.

As he started to get different paperwork ready, we chatted a bit – mostly about me and why I would want to live in England!  lol.

Then we got down to business.  Financial details first.  Maybe this is why I didn’t find it too scary – this is what I have to do with clients, so it was all very familiar.  I had three months’ worth of pay slips and three months’ worth of bank statements, answered questions about all my stocks and bonds and expensive jewelry (none, of course) and discovered that I do qualify for legal aid.  Meaning just about any work he does for me will be done free of charge to me.  He’ll get paid for his work by the same organisation that pays my company for the work it does – it’s coming out of the public purse, in other words.

He pointed out that court costs might be a different matter.  However, again, there is a form for me to fill out.  I’ll still have to pay the fee, but based on my income, most or all of it may be refunded to me.  I was aware of that in advance too.

Then we got down to the fun stuff – he had a nice questionnaire-type form from which to ask his questions.  He started with the easy ones – or one, I should say – which was my address.  Then he asked for D’s address, and that was nearly a show-stopper!  The law clearly states that the respondent (that would be D) is to be served the petition at his place of residence.  Hmmmm…he did lots of reading through statute books, and then a couple of other family law books that related to all kinds of problems with divorces and found something else about not knowing the respondent’s address.  The court would need to be told and possibly the court’s permission would be needed to serve D at a different address (like his parents’ or his work).  He asked me if I thought D’s parents would make sure D was advised that the papers were there for him.  I said, yes, without a doubt.

He went to consult with someone more senior and came back and said that that would probably work.  Whew.  Still, if that had stopped things, I could see getting a message to D that if Frances Marie Campbell wants him all to herself, she’d better give him permission to hand out the address or she’d have to have that baby out of wedlock for sure if we’d have to wait two years!!

Anyway, the questionnaire continued with questions about where we work, how much we each make a year, when we met, how long we lived together before marriage, when we got married and then down to the nitty gritty.

As friend Taffney suggested, I had a timeline ready for this, so it went quite quickly.  He wanted to know about when things went downhill, why I thought they’d gone downhill, did I suspect another woman right away, how I found out for sure about the other woman, did I know her name (I told him and he wrote it down), right up to me telling him what the messages on Facebook said.  That’s when he told me, “this doesn’t sound like unreasonable behaviour (my heart sank!), it sounds like adultery!”  I said there’s no admission of that by him or any real proof and he said ‘pity’.  lol

I continued with my changing of D’s email password and how that came about and that I had three emails from her to him and what happened that day, that D was confused, hadn’t thought ahead as to how devastating this would be for all concerned (especially me), didn’t want to consider marriage counselling, etc.  Of course, I had the three famous emails with me and he asked to see them.  He gave them back to me, but just kind of shook his head – he thought her email address – tattoogirl69 – was interesting. I said I reckoned the 69 was the year she was born, he was thinking she had that many tattoos!

So, he understands about what happened after that with D finally telling me it’s over, then them getting the house, them going out together to celebrate, him spending the weekend at her mum’s.  When I told him that D fell down the stairs on Friday the 13th and broke his arm, he tried not to laugh too much, wanted to know where I was standing when it happened and said ’sounds like he’s already getting his comeuppance’. 

He asked me what I would do if D wanted back into the marriage.  I hesitated.  But then said ‘no chance’.

Wanted to know the date of our separation.  I said I couldn’t date it – he hadn’t slept at the house in a week, but he moved his stuff out on the 1st, so he used that date.

He’s going to draft a petition for my approval, he said everything will be straightforward.  He said we’ll talk about the ancillary stuff later – (ancillary meaning financials, pension, maintenance etc.) but based on the length of the relationship and the fact we’re both working means there won’t be much to do there.  I had the original signed property division thingy that I drafted.  He said ‘well done’ and asked for that as well.

He’s also going to write to D at his parents’ and ask D to give him a call.  I’m not quite sure why though!  I think he might try to get his address out of him, because it would be easier if he could be served where he lives.  Or he might just want to tell him that it will all be simple and painless and inexpensive unless D decides to be a shit about it, or he might advise him that it would be a good idea for him to see a solicitor himself…don’t know, don’t care.  It’s a load off.