It’s no secret that the Viking and I are planning to move.  It might not be a secret that the Viking and I thought we’d already be moved by now.  It’s not always so easy to make plans when we’re not in complete control, but eventually we will move.

Eventually we will have to move because my condo is on the market.  When my agent needs to show it we have to be gone.  Isis, too, has to be gone.  Also, the place needs to be reasonably clean.  It’s all kind of a pain in the ass, but it has to be done.

I wouldn’t have even been able to put it on the market if it weren’t for my ex-husband, the Ex, finally agreeing to sign a quitclaim deed so he didn’t have to participate in the sale as well, as he and I still owned the property together until very recently.

[In the middle of writing this I got an automated call from my mortgagor who doesn't seem to know my place is on the market.  I called back and had to deal with one guy who hung up on me because he didn't like that I swore, which is silly because what are "ass" and "fuck" but words?  I called back again and ended up hanging up on that person after one too many ma'am's and the realization that she could do nothing to stop the lame-ass automated calls.]

Perhaps because the Ex did cooperate in the end (and it is the end; I will never have to deal with him in any capacity whatsoever), I had a dream about him the other night.  Isis was in the dream, as she often is.  He and I got her together, but after he proved to be more interested in staying out all night doing cocaine and staying in all day sleeping it off than taking care of her in the most minimum way – taking her out to go to the bathroom – I realized that she was no longer our dog, by my dog.

In the dream he was trying to take Isis.  Back when we were broken up but getting along, he would joke at me about taking Isis (or Joaquin) because he was lonely without any pets.  In the dream he told me he was lonely and that he needed Isis.  I reminded him that he had his girlfriend and their child now, that Isis was mine.  He told me that the girlfriend was more interested in the kid than him and that he was all alone.  I told him that it would get better.  I told him all the things people say to people who’re having trouble with their new kids.

In my dream, I was nice to him.  I told him it would get better, and that now that he was a father he didn’t need Isis.  He got a little misty in the dream, and looked at me with his big brown eyes, and I sent him on his way, to his girlfriend and their kid.

In real life I feel no such warm and fuzzy feelings for the guy, for his stupid (as in unintelligent), slovenly girlfriend, and their likely borderline-retarded child.  I woke up feeling as if my subconscious was much nicer and more forgiving than my conscious.  My subconscious fell for his sad, puppy dog eyes like I had so many times when we were together.

You went out and spent over $100 on drinks when we’re having trouble paying bills?  But you’re really sorry now, and you promise not to do it again, at least not until next week, and you have a look of contrition on your face?  Oh, ok then, I forgive you.  I did that shit for years.  I put up with a guy who took advantage of me, took me for granted, and who didn’t even like my company for about eight years longer than I should have.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, at a very fancy restaurant, where we ordered a several course chef’s tasting menu, he told me between courses one and two that he loved me, but he wasn’t in love with me.  The only reason I didn’t walk out was because I wanted to taste that food, dammit.  Later that night, on our anniversary, he met friends out at a bar.  We were married for three more years.

I didn’t know how miserable I was.  So I guess I should thank him for finally having the balls to leave me.

I swear.  True story.

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