Paperwork

“So what’s taking so long (with your divorce)?

“When will your divorce be final?”

“What’s happening with your divorce?”

“So when can we celebrate (your divorce)?”

“Isn’t it (your never ending divorce) over by now?”

I get these questions a lot. In fact, I heard the last four in the last two days. Seems when one has a blog called www.idiotexhusband.com, people come to expect the husband to be an ex ASAP. Once they hear I’ve been separated for fifteen months, and still haven’t completed the paperwork to finalize the divorce, they usually stare a few seconds before asking, “Why?!”

Since I’ve made it painfully clear that a reconcilliation between myself and my soon to be ex-husband, Endicott, will never, EVER happen. that’s a fair question.

Here’s my answer: I forgot.

When we filed the paperwork ourselves in late May of 2005, we were told that the second set of papers could be filed six months and a day later. I swore I’d burn that date into my memory, write it down in a calendar, tattoo it onto my arm — anything so I wouldn’t forget my obligation…or as a clerk at the Van Nuys Courthouse put it, “The papers of freedom!”

Of course, I didn’t do that. I forgot to write down the reminders — I needed reminders for my reminders? — so it completely slipped my mind until December 2005.

It nagged at me throughout the month. “Shouldn’t the degree be finalized soon?” I thought, “I’ll check on it when things calm down.” Finally, in January 2006, I drove myself over to the courthouse and got the bad news.

[Before you criticize me, let me point out this is my first (and hopefully only) divorce, so I'm not exactly a pro at this paperwork crap!]

A week later, my rheumathoid arthritis flare-up began. That ragged on for several months, leaving me exhausted and miserable, barely able to work. Everything but the essentials — rent, food, and car insurance — were ignored. It has only been in the last three weeks that my health has improved enough to revisit this task.

With any luck, I’ll be back at the courthouse very soon, filing the “papers of freedom.”

Adios,
Flo