So here we are. I'm handing first-born back after a fun weekend. The Ex adopts a concerned air:
She: "So how are you doing"
Me (internal): "How do you think I'm doing? I'm still coming to terms with the fact that my entire future has disappeared in a puff of smoke"
Me (external): "Fine"
She: "And how you coping?"
Me (internal): "I haven't beaten the crap out of your boyfriend, or told your employers that two of their employees have broken a Big Rule. Thats gotta be good."
Me (external): "Fine"
She: "Oh, thats good. Are you ok to baby-sit first-born tomorrow night"
Me (internal): "Only if you promise to die before me. This is the thought that sustains me."
Me (external): "I'd love to"
Oh, the curse of amicability. This journal provides an excellent venting point.
In the good news department, it looks like I might have the funds to kick off my apartment purchase on June 4th. Hurrah!
So - the jacuzzi. Underwater lighting. Tacky or essential?
