Get your berg off my body.
Last night I (finally) got divorce papers in the mail. Which made me happy. For about 30 seconds. Then I opened them.
Apparently I have to wait another year to be divorced.
I have to wait an entire extra year. That, of course, is on top of the past year I've already spent dealing with this.
This was, naturally, never even mentioned to me by the Ex. (Whose epithet, handily enough, has now been chosen by court of law: PETITIONER.) I only found out I was legally obligated to wait six months after filing before I could be granted the judge's ear about two weeks ago, when he finally filed filed.
What the fuck, people. The thought of having to keep this name, these memories, this loose end left un-dealt with, this vestige of someone I no longer am, this nagging unhappiness in my life for a whole extra year is... well... I don't know what to do with that, other than to walk as far away from the nearest human as possible with the biggest load of breakable items as possible and start smashing things and screaming until I feel better.
By the time I actually get the privilege of being divorced, I will have been married to a complete stranger for as long as I was married to a husband. Maybe that shouldn't make me as sad as it does, but.
I don't know what to do. But one thing is for sure. I can't handle keeping his last name for another year. I need it gone, like, yesterday.
Apparently I have to wait another year to be divorced.
I have to wait an entire extra year. That, of course, is on top of the past year I've already spent dealing with this.
This was, naturally, never even mentioned to me by the Ex. (Whose epithet, handily enough, has now been chosen by court of law: PETITIONER.) I only found out I was legally obligated to wait six months after filing before I could be granted the judge's ear about two weeks ago, when he finally filed filed.
What the fuck, people. The thought of having to keep this name, these memories, this loose end left un-dealt with, this vestige of someone I no longer am, this nagging unhappiness in my life for a whole extra year is... well... I don't know what to do with that, other than to walk as far away from the nearest human as possible with the biggest load of breakable items as possible and start smashing things and screaming until I feel better.
By the time I actually get the privilege of being divorced, I will have been married to a complete stranger for as long as I was married to a husband. Maybe that shouldn't make me as sad as it does, but.
I don't know what to do. But one thing is for sure. I can't handle keeping his last name for another year. I need it gone, like, yesterday.