Freaky Friday

Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I am an emotional person. I suffer from anxiety, while not formally diagnosed, I am not where I can't function or need medication.  My husband's affair however, has notably caused my blood pressure to rise and did take my anxiety up a notch or two.

I don't know too much about anxiety, but I am aware of when mine is building and am conscientious of when I am going to experience an emotional explosion. I am also cognizant of the fact that once I reach that level, I am incapable of reining in my emotions, reaching the point of no return.  And for some inexplicable reason, these emotional outbursts seem to occur more often than not on a Friday.

Last week I had been preparing for our time at the beach. I drove down earlier in the week to set up the house, planning to move the kids down either Friday night or Saturday morning.  On Friday afternoon, my husband and I got into a conversation about the skank.  Irritated by the discussion, he cut it short and left for an appointment.  When he came home later, I was already in a mood, anxiety building, and questioning my ability to trust him.  What if he was pretending things were OK in order to ease my mind? What if he planned on seeing the skank again when I was at the beach?  Why did he keep saying go and enjoy myself at the beach? Why would she so blatantly taunt me? Maybe she knows something I don't?  Maybe they were still contact with each other. Maybe I'm a fool to trust him. Maybe he's been pretending things are OK so I would have a false sense of security while he goes and fucks that whore again.  

I told him I had that feeling that something wasn't right, that he was hiding something which in all honestly could have just been triggered by the same date of a year ago, the first night he stayed with her until 4am. 

He said even if she contacted him, even if she was to show up on his office doorstep it didn't matter.  He was not going down that road again. He was busy trying to catch up on his work and would tell her he was busy and didn't want to be bothered.  He already told her they were through and he was committed to me and his family. Don't I have faith in him to take care of it?  

He ate dinner but had work to complete in order for all of us to go to the beach together on Saturday, or possible late on Friday.  As he was leaving, I tried to ask him for more specific plans. He was only staying a day or two and I needed to figure out what food to pick up for him at home. He knew I was upset and decided to brush off my questions, impatiently stating he needed to get into the office.  

I went to my bedroom and tried to take a nap but instead I began replaying the timeframe of the affair, thinking of them together.  I revisited those cell phone logs in my head. He would call her when he was on his way to see her. He'd call her when he arrived at her house and she would call him when he left.  I knew when he got there and how long he stayed.  As I lay in bed, my blood began to boil and my anxiety took on a life of its own.  I got up and called his cell phone.  Then I called the office.  No answer.  I called the cell phone again.  No answer.  I texted 'Dude, I'm going to the market and need to find out a couple of things so I know what food to leave at the house for you.'  No response. I was furious and my anxiety and emotions could no longer be contained.

At that moment, I fully intended on driving to the market, but found myself on the road to his office instead.  Twice en route I could have corrected course and completed my task.  I didn't. I crossed that point of no return. It was not going to be pretty.

In the past 9 months after the affair was outed, I have never gone by his office or the skank's house to check up on him.  Friday was the first time.  He wasn't at his office. He wasn't answering his phone.  I flipped out.  I dictated a message that was a slightly incoherent run on sentence...

I actually debated in my head going to her house but then I said to myself, 'I can't live like that.'  I drove home and started packing up my car like a crazy person while my sons were in their room doing some summer reading.  My husband finally called.  Twice.  I didn't answer.  By the time he called the third time, I was pretty well packed.  After a brief terse back and forth, he said, "you want to know where I was?" I said I really didn't care, I was leaving for the beach.  He said, "I was at my parent's house. I knew you were getting nuts so I left the phone in the car. I didn't want to answer while I was there.  I started talking to them and ended up staying to watch the news."  

Eventually he talked me down from my anxiety attack and called me Freaky Friday.  He reminded me it had been a Friday a couple of weeks ago where I flipped out on him.  He said he didn't know if he should call me 'Freaky Friday' or 'Sybil'.  I actually laughed at that and started to calm down.  He said to come by the office and pick him up and we'd drive down together.  I still had a few things to retrieve at home and since he had two appointments on Saturday, we decided to drive up together in the late morning and I would drop him off to pick up his car at the office.  He returned to the beach house on Saturday after his appointments and we spent a nice Sunday family day together.

This constant rollercoaster of ups and downs really sucks.  Some days I feel like I'm bi-polar.  In a two hour time frame, I went from believing he was with the skank and actively looking to catch them together, to having a wonderful weekend with my him and our sons.  I need to find a successful strategy to stop the escalation of my anxiety to that no return point.

He says he doesn't know if he should call me Sybil or Freaky Friday.  I'm kind of partial to Sybil.  The fact that we can laugh about it is good, isn't it?

The Other Night...

...my husband and I dined at our new favorite restaurant, feasting on mouthwatering Italian cuisine complete with entertainment in the form of a very talented seventeen year old crooner singing Frank Sinatra songs.  Thursday nights have morphed into an enjoyable date night routine.

This Thursday we savored our wine and relaxing dinner.  The conversation was light and we were laughing.  But somewhere between the appetizer and dinner, we were discussing a  business acquaintance and something was said which triggered me.  I can't recall the exact conversation, but the list of it had something to do with this guy not respecting boundaries and needing to be set straight.  My response was, "and that's why I tried to contact her."

The 'here she goes again' look appeared, and he asked if I was going to call her or drop by her house, knowing damn well I would do neither.  I told him I was thinking of texting her.  He said great, put in writing in a text.  I answered that I was thinking of purchasing a burner phone and texting her this picture:  

I then retrieved the text I had been working on all week which was stored in my 'notes' app in my phone and showed him my short but sweet paragraph.

"YOU gave him his ultimate Karma and I got to watch. #priceless.  I told him to tell you, but he said "let her figure it out herself.  Would have loved to tell you in person but you'd rather sneak around behind my back than have the guts to face me. #karmadoescome #ifyouareluckygodletsyouwatch #imaluckygirl #karmasabitchifyouare #dirtyskank #whore #fuckyou"

He said, "You'd better not send it."  

I replied, "I will if I want to."

"It will only make things worse for me."

To which I responded, "Too bad.  That's your problem, not mine. But, you should be glad that I'm telling you and not hiding it.  Do you understand how livid I am? Do you know the amount of restraint I have in not sending it?"

He nervously laughed and ultimately agreed.  I added, "I was thinking of sending it when you have your surgery. That way if she tried to call you, you wouldn't be at the office to answer the phone."  He was actually speechless for a moment.  "Nice." he finally muttered.

It felt good to write it and it felt liberating to tell him, which also alleviated some of the manic urge to actually text to her.  Once it was out in the open and discussed, our conversation reverted back to the light topics of our day and the upcoming week.  

Dinner was fabulous and the company wasn't so bad either.

A Year Ago...

A year ago, my husband decided to have an affair with the skank.  

A year ago, I brought a carload of stuff to the beach. He brought his cheating ass to her house until 4:30am.  

A year ago, I was making the beds, unpacking the kids' summer clothes, stocking the refrigerator.  He was sleeping with her.

A year ago, I gave my sons a fun-filled, summer.  My husband was giving the skank a fun filled summer, complete with wining and dining then sleeping with her until the wee hours of the mornings.  

A year ago, I was entertaining the kids.  My husband barely saw them because he was too busy entertaining the skank.

A year ago, I was oblivious, happy to be by the ocean.  He was happy with someone else. 

It is now a year later.  We're supposed to be going to the beach.

I have not brought anything down to the house.  No beds are made.  The refrigerator is empty.  

I haven't even put my winter clothes away.  My summer clothes are packed deep in the back of the spare room closet.

The beach is my happy place.  I'm not looking forward to going. Is it because his affair spanned the entire summer into mid September?  Or is it because once I get down there, I may not want to come home.  

We've both been trying.  Outside of discovering his recent lie, monumental progress was made.  But I know there will be triggers over the next few months. And I still have not regained my joy in simple pleasures. 

Our family is important and I will do what I have to do.  But ultimately, I can't help but wonder, is it worth it?

Liar, Liar..

...pants on fire. 

'I didn't have sex with her.  We fooled around but didn't have intercourse'.  "Did she blow you?"  'No'.  And then there was herpes...(previous post)

Once the 'I didn't have sex with her' dialogue was refuted, 'it was only two times' was the next statement.  According to him, 'the sex sucked, he had a hard time getting it up and keeping it up'.  So for the three months you spend every free moment with this skank I am supposed to believe you only screwed her twice?  Do I look like a moron to you?  

So then we progressed to, 'Well we tried to more than that but it just didn't work right'  So again I asked, "Did she give you blow jobs?" 'Yes'.  "If the sex was so bad, why did you do it for 3 months?"  'It was a sore spot for her.  She said I couldn't do it because I was thinking of you'.  Is Mr. Honesty following the standard cheat manual dialogue? While satisfying to hear the last declaration, I doubt it was true. 

I invited my cousin over for dinner the other night and my husband came home towards the end of our visit.  It was a beautiful night and we were sitting on the deck.  He grabbed a wine glass and decided he'd join us.  He can be quite charming and is usually very amusing. People do enjoy his stories and anecdotes. This particular night's conversation centered predominantly around his family's 'mental issues' as an uncle had died earlier in the week.  He lectured about personas and how some of his cousins present 'false images', proudly stating how he is honest and up front with everything and everyone, and always is up front and truthful with our children.  He never lies...

My cousin knows everything.  EVERYTHING.  Kudos to her for maintaining a poker face and engaging him in his animated story. I would occasionally catch her eye, barely keeping a straight face.  When he finally left, she looked at me and said one word... 

"Really?" 

Karma's a Bitch...

...And I Love Her...

(Warning:  there is a lot of anger, swearing and sexual content in this post. If you are offended by the foul language and content, please just move on)...

People routinely complain Karma takes too long and frequently doesn't seem to materialize at all.  We all know someone who appears to get away with repeated bad behavior. We wish for them to experience a Karma which never seems to catch up.  But Karma caught my husband. Karma came swiftly and decisively, striking the most crushing blow.  It was the ideal Karma for him, pure perfection, ironic, yet bittersweet for me.

But first, let me give you a little background about my husband.  

I call him a germaphobe, but not in the sense of someone who constantly washes his hands.  He purchases rubber gloves by the case, using them to pump gas, take out the garbage, even wipe his ass when he shits (sorry for the TMI).  He is a fanatic about not eating other people's food. He only consumes food he has seen prepared to his stringent cleanliness standards.  He refuses to dine out in many places, only those he has scoped out in advance to observe how staff handles utensils and how they cook food. If a waitress puts a menu on top of the silverware, he will walk out because the restaurant isn't employing proper hygiene etiquette. If a restaurant has their doors open, he won't eat there because flies or rats may have gotten inside.  If he has to use a public toilet, he lines the seat with toilet paper.  He constantly sneaks peaks at me preparing his food, occasionally trying to 'catch' me in a hygiene slip.  I have to wash my hands with bar soap before making his food, liquid soap isn't adequate.  We'll occasionally grab a burger at a local place we like where he eats the bun and burger separately... with a fork.  He washes grapes, 4 or 5 at a time and wipes them individually with multiple pieces of paper towel before eating. Then he rinses 4 or 5 more and repeats the process until he's had enough.  I call him knuckles because he will take a dish of food to the table holding the plate with his knuckles.  Do I need to go on, or do you think you get the picture?

Now a little about the skank.

When my husband discussed the skank, he portrayed her as a faithful wife to a loser on the one hand, a pot smoking, excessive drinker (the reasons her ex filed for divorce) on the other. He said her mothering skills left much to be desired and that she was on all sorts of medications for mental issues. He said she was psycho and was quite sure she was no angel in her marriage.  He said he didn't want me to contact her because she is crazy and may initiate or falsify a provocation to try to get me arrested for harassment or something of the like.

He agrees that she always wanted more than friendship but also admits the decision was his to take the friendship further.  He insists that no matter what she did, if he didn't wish it to go further, it wouldn't have.  He stated they had fun together but his reason for being with her was to get back at me because of his festering resentment (which in truth was mutual).  He also expressed that it could have been anyone, but she was around and she was convenient.  But most importantly, she was 'clean' after being in a monogamous relationship for approximately 30 years.   

Initially when I confronted him about the affair, he appeared to not show much loyalty for the skank.  He referred to her as 'that girl'.  I don't love 'that girl'.  I'm not going to move in with 'that girl'.  He was more offended by her ex-husband, than by any real loyalty towards her.  She would cry to my husband about the ex saying all kinds of nasty things. Yet in their divorce interrogatories, details on how she would taunt the ex about his small dick were revealed. She portrayed him as a crappy husband and neglectful father to his special needs children, outraging my husband as we ourselves have autistic children. From what I've seen on the ex's social media and heard through the grapevine, he was no prize, but she was a piece of shit and made his life miserable. He was frustrated with her alcohol and marijuana abuse. She was on a cocktail of medications to treat her various mental issues.  The ex currently has good relationships with his grown kids and is finding happiness with a nice woman.  

The skank has no one now.  But at least she's clean.

And then there was a nasty bubbly red rash which appeared down under a couple of months ago.  It started to ooze and was really painful.  What is that creeping crud asshole?   How many times did you fuck her?  HOW MANY TIMES DID YOU FUCK HER?   

So she was clean was she?

Well then, how the fuck did you get herpes asshole? She is a dirty fucking whore.      HOW MANY TIMES DID YOU FUCK HER?


Yup - he got herpes. There was a nasty little outbreak, then another shortly after.  And THAT is why he came clean about sleeping with her.   Had he not contracted herpes, he would have kept on lying to my face, over and over when I asked him, "Did you fuck her?"  He has now had several outbreaks, most likely induced by the many stresses we have been dealing with. He will also have to take a daily anti-viral medication for the rest of his life. 

Karma struck a forceful, swift, decisive blow to my husband. In his germaphobe brain, the absolute worst thing resulting from screwing around would be contracting not only an STD, but a lifelong STD.  He did. In spite of the fact that he now exposed me as well to this STD, I have taken quite a bit of pleasure in watching him receive his quintessential Karma.  I can't imagine anything worse for him. Not only did he contract a disease, but the beauty of it is that the dirty disgusting whore skank was responsible for handing him his Karma on a silver platter.

He was absolutely mortified when the doctor confirmed herpes. He loathes taking medication of any kind.  A daily pill is hard pill for him to swallow, but he needs to take it to reduce the risk of spreading the virus to me. When she reminisces about her fairytale summer with the 'love of her life', he will be remembering her as the dirty skank whore who gave him herpes. He never believed in Karma, always making a joke if I referred to it.  He's not laughing now...

I told him she knew she had it and neglected to tell him because she knew he'd never sleep with her.  He at first said maybe she didn't know. But as stress sometimes initiates outbreaks and she is on her litany of crazy pills, I unequivocally believe she absolutely knew.  He agrees. I told him to call her and tell her.  He refused, saying, 'let her figure it out herself.' 

When I learned about the affair and made a doctor's appointment, he said go, get checked out, there is nothing to worry about.  EVERY STD test of mine came back negative.  And I hadn't been sleeping with him while he slept with her.  It is indisputable that he got it from her.  My physician and I discussed the fact that the herpes virus can be dormant, however, since I've been with my husband for 25 years, the antibody test would have shown positive had either of us had been exposed to the virus in the past.  Mine was negative.  Of course, it is now likely he will pass the virus to me if he hasn't already.  Collateral damage. 

I've been manic these past few weeks, in a rage. My anxiety and anger have escalated.  I have thrown this herpes thing in his face ad nauseum.  The anger and trust issues that had been subsiding over the past 8 months until this revelation came forth returned with full vengeance. This revelation also initiated my recent attempt to contact the skank.  She will not answer the phone nor agree to speak with me. 

And now, back to square one.  I don't trust him.   I wonder what else he is lying about.  He says that was the only thing. He claims he was afraid to tell me because our reconciliation was going well and he knew I'd be upset. He said I kept saying I already knew anyway, so he didn't want to rock the boat.  He set us back. Way back. 

So again, I don't trust him, but to go further, if he even thinks of going back with her, they fucking deserve each other...

Regardless of what happens, Karma got him. Karma got him good.

Coincidence?

...I think not.  

I remember in March, 2016, before the affair started, I had an inkling for no apparent reason to check Find My Phone and it located him at home I later learned was hers.  He had supposedly been helping her at that time as a 'friend'.  I knew he had other clients in that town and dismissed it.  In retrospect, I shouldn't have. 

He shut of location services on his phone and put a lock code on it. He says I should trust him and doesn't expect me to be checking up on him now.  He told her back in November not to call his cell phone.  He also told me that she called him in February (when I actually goaded her into making that call), and he informed her they were not only over, but couldn't be friends any more.  According to him, she has not contacted him since February and he assured me that he will let me know if she does.  So now he is the perfect husband again and committed to making our marriage work.  He refuses to go to any kind of counseling. And I am supposed to have blind faith in him.  Umm.  Nope.

I check the cell phone bill religiously every month. I google numbers that are not familiar, especially those originated or received from her town.  And on the June statement, I found a call originating there on May 31 at 1:30pm.  I googled the number and it belonged to a local dry cleaner.  Problem one, my husband's dry cleaner is several towns away, near his office.  Problem two, this dry cleaner is less than a mile from the skank's house. 

I told him today that when I paid the cell phone bill online, I discovered a call from that dry cleaner.  He said his dry cleaner does a shitty job (which he has in fact admitted in the past) and that this one had a good reputation.  He also said he tried a couple of other ones and I also found those numbers on the cell phone bill.  

But he lied to my face for eight months about sleeping with her.  Is he lying to me now that they have had no contact since February.  Am I supposed to have this blind faith in him now? Is this a coincidence.  What am I supposed to think?  What am I supposed to do?

I have driven by a few times in the morning, but not in the afternoon.  A friend of mine who lives in the same town said she'd be willing to go by on occasion when she's in the vicinity and will snap a picture of the skank's car if it's there.

Less than two weeks and I will be at the beach.  I have no way of knowing what he's up to.  I have no way of knowing if he's going to be at her house, working, or just home. Halfway through our stay however,  he is scheduled for surgery to remove a spot of skin cancer.  I feel Karma is a teeny bit in play as this could have been a minor thing, but seems to have grown into something much more complicated and challenging. It morphed into a more substantial surgery and much larger potential for a prominent scar.  I have to come home to transport him to his two surgeries, first a MOHs surgery to remove the cancer, then general anesthesia the next day to reconstruct the hole that's going to be left on his face.  In spite of that, there are two weeks he won't be accounting for his time.

I don't like living with all this suspicion, but I can't seem to get past it.  I don't like the subtle satisfaction I get when Karma comes a calling.  And believe me, Karma has come for him and I don't mean with the skin cancer itself, but more accurately the complications. Since the affair was unearthed, he has had a run of particularly bad luck.  Some may disagree and that's fine, I'm not looking to impose my opinions on anyone, nor debate my beliefs.  

But what I see as his true Karma has dealt him a swift, decisive blow which I will be exposing in the near future. This is not related to the skin cancer, business and financial difficulties he is also now experiencing.  This Karma is much more personal, so profoundly appropriate for him, and delivered directly by the skank.  

But for now, I don't trust him. I don't trust him. I really don't trust him. He's been trying, and I may very well be wrong, but I just don't trust him...

  

I Just Don't Get It...

...and I don't think I ever will.

Last week was a fucking nightmare.  On Wednesday, my son walked out of the back door of his school while I was waiting in front to pick him up.  He had become overwhelmed and decided to take off.  For nearly two and a half hours, I drove aimlessly in the vicinity of the school and around a three mile radius checking parks he liked to frequent, looking up and down side streets. My husband had to cancel two appointments, pick up my other son, then join in the search. I finally got a phone call from one of his classmates' mothers who saw him, knew his history of walking off and drove him to me.  

The next day, at his weekly counseling appointment, I spoke briefly with his doctor before he did.  I told her I get the anxiety. I understand feeling totally overwhelmed. But I don't get what is in his head when he walks out knowing I'm there waiting and we have to pick up his brother.  His brother, who adores him, is getting fucked up because of his stunts.  It's the depression and anxiety they say.  He doesn't think, he acts.  And I said to the doctor, "I just don't get it."  

I have severe situational anxiety. Escalating over the affair and my son's recent issues, it has not eased up. I can not just walk out the back door and leave everyone to fend for themselves.  I sometimes think about just leaving and taking off. But I'm an adult and I can't just run away.  My kids depend on me.  So when I see my son just take off, I understand his frustration.  I understand his anxiety.  But running off? I just don't get it.

Every day as I sit in my car in front of my son's school, I wonder if he's going to come out the front door.  Every. Single. Day.  Did he have a bad day? Is he going to come out, or take off?  My hair is falling out.  Seven years ago I had severe stress when my mother-in-law became severely ill. I had some hair loss then that was attributed to stress.  It is happening again, only worse.  As a young woman, I had a mane of lush thick hair.  After the first round of stress in my 40's, it thinned out.  For the past few weeks, every time I wash or brush my hair, a handful comes out.  

In October when my husband and I had our big 'talk' and decided to try and save our marriage had he come clean, I wouldn't be at the point I am today. Between the stress in dealing with my son's depression and my husband's affair, I am overwhelmed.  Maybe had he been honest and laid it all on the table, I wouldn't be replaying everything over and over again.  

Why am I punishing myself pouring over the cell phone bills again? Why am I thinking over and over of the two of them together, where they were, what they were doing?  

A year ago we returned from a family weekend out of state and their phone calls were ramping up to a ridiculous level.  I went to the beach for a few days to bring our stuff and he was there until 4am.  The kids and I came home for my sons middle school promotion ceremony.  We were barely on the road back to the beach and they were at it again.  From the cell phone records, I can pinpoint when he went there and what time he left, because he'd call when he arrived and she'd call him on the way home. If they went out, I could see the location of calls that came in on his cell phone which gave me a solid idea as to the restaurant they were at. 

For eight months I asked him 'Did you sleep with her?', 'Where did you take her?', and 'Did you tell her 'I love you'?' 

Where he took her was easy for me to find out. Even though he keeps his credit card statements private, I could access the phone records and find out recent charges going back quite far.  So that was never really an issue. 

He insisted he never slept with her.  He looked me in the eye, over and over and denied it.  He gave me reasoning that actually made sense.  Deep down I knew the answer, but there was a shred of hope that he didn't.  That hope lived because I just don't get it.  I don't get cheating.  Just leave.  I would have agreed to a separation or divorce.  Be man enough and do the right thing.  He preaches holier than thou, no one lives up to his morals.  He criticizes people who cheat.  He loathes them and their weakness.  And then he did it himself.  He wrote a check his ego couldn't cash.  He can't take responsibility for his cheating, his ego won't allow him to reconcile the deed.  On one hand he says it's his fault, his decision to cheat, but in the next breath he blames me. If I didn't do what I did, he never would have made that decision. 

So what really set me off with the skank?  There were two major triggers, one will be forthcoming in a future post.  The second? The resurfacing of 'the skank'.  We put up a Facebook page for my husband's business.  He does not have a personal Facebook account, (nor Twitter, Instagram or any other social media account), and has no interest in having one.  However, we created a page through my account for his business.  I shared it publicly on my personal page and within an hour, the skank liked his page, profile picture, cover photo and his initial post.  I was livid.  In retrospect, as I controlled the page, I should have just shut up and waited to see if she'd contact him, but one of my sons saw the likes.  They know who she is.  He said, "What's she doing here?"  And I lost it.  But again, she knows he doesn't have, nor wish to have a social media presence, so perhaps the likes were to irritate me.  It worked.  

So I taunted her again on my Facebook, again pretty subtly so my Facebook friends didn't really notice, but enough to irritate the shit out of her.  She and her trash friend ended up commenting on one of my posts.  On her comment, which was in fact insignificant, I replied, 'we need to chat'.  She replied 'No we don't.'  Before the comment, I had messaged her to pick a time and place where we could grab a drink and clear the air.  Once she commented, I changed my Facebook settings to only friends that can comment on public posts.  I set all the prior posts to friends, blocked messages from her and her scumbag friend (who was at her house several times when my husband was there last summer) and I banned her from my husband's business page which prevents her from liking, posting or commenting on his page.  In order to get her 'like's' off his pictures, I deleted, then restored the profile and cover photos.  

The friend's comment was nasty, I deleted it right away before anyone had a chance to see, so I actually didn't read it all, but the gist of it referenced my daily good morning posts, date night posts and then referred to my 'gourmet meals' which were part of my Instagram feed. Since they are not so much on my public Facebook posts, so she only confirmed that those low life skanks were trolling my Instagram.  I changed that to a private account.

The skank refused to speak with me. I wanted to hear what she has to say and I was sure she'd love that chance to throw it in my face. I also wanted to see if she'd tell me what my husband was hiding from me.  I told my husband I tried to contact her.  He was angry.  I said too fucking bad.  He said if I do and anything happens, don't talk to him about it.  So what the fuck is that?  What is he afraid she'll tell me?  He didn't knock her up, because he's fixed. So what is it that will get me so upset? But no, no conversation. Did they speak ahead of time.  Did she call him? Did he tell her not to speak with me? He said he'd tell me if she contacts him.  Maybe that's a lie. Maybe he's already spoken with her.  

Two weeks from leaving for the beach, one year since the affair started and we are back to square one.  I don't trust him.  There may not be anything more to uncover, but I don't trust him.  

Vasectomy Woes...

...hit my husband several years ago.  I wrote about our experience and submitted to BluntMoms for consideration.  They published my piece today on their blog.  Check it out! 

Vasectomy Woes - Doctor Left Us Holding The Bag... Of Frozen Peas

Suffice it to say that never assume a routine procedure can't go very wrong.