Separating Sucks, but Sucking Can Suck a Dick
I don't regret my marriage with the Wife, and I don't regret dissolving it. None of that makes it suck any less. If anything, our continued friendship and partnership in raising the Boy make it harder to grasp that we can't make it work as a couple; I know that will work out better in the long run, but I can't help but imagine that I'd have an easier time right now if I could feel angry instead of just hopelessly lost.
Life hasn't gone completely joyless. The Boy brightens my life everyday. Oddly enough, so does the Wife. I still find my work fun and fulfilling, and I've managed to secure that work year-round without shitty supplemental jobs. And now, for the first time in my life, I'll get to have my own space. I scored a glorified studio in a one-of-a-kind house on a hillside festooned with coast live oaks my landlady has endeavored to save from Sudden Oak Death. Say hello to my new home in Marin County's kooky San Geronimo Valley (on 06 September, I'll move into the lower unit with the tarpaulin on the deck [that better go before I move in]):
Just wait until I move in and get you a shot of the view that will greet me each morning. On top of that, I'll have a playground, a convenience store, a take-and-bake pizza place, and ancient redwoods all within a reasonable walk. I think the new place will go a long way toward restoring my sanity and getting on with my life. The change of scenery (and the raise) that will come with my transition to Muir Woods in September probably won't hurt, either.
Facing the music every night sucks, and I haven't even gone regular days without seeing the Boy yet. But I don't see any other way, and I suppose I could do worse than sharing this kick-ass kid with the cool ex-Wife while I work to promote the preservation of our precious places and rock the fuck out.
Life hasn't gone completely joyless. The Boy brightens my life everyday. Oddly enough, so does the Wife. I still find my work fun and fulfilling, and I've managed to secure that work year-round without shitty supplemental jobs. And now, for the first time in my life, I'll get to have my own space. I scored a glorified studio in a one-of-a-kind house on a hillside festooned with coast live oaks my landlady has endeavored to save from Sudden Oak Death. Say hello to my new home in Marin County's kooky San Geronimo Valley (on 06 September, I'll move into the lower unit with the tarpaulin on the deck [that better go before I move in]):
Just wait until I move in and get you a shot of the view that will greet me each morning. On top of that, I'll have a playground, a convenience store, a take-and-bake pizza place, and ancient redwoods all within a reasonable walk. I think the new place will go a long way toward restoring my sanity and getting on with my life. The change of scenery (and the raise) that will come with my transition to Muir Woods in September probably won't hurt, either.
Facing the music every night sucks, and I haven't even gone regular days without seeing the Boy yet. But I don't see any other way, and I suppose I could do worse than sharing this kick-ass kid with the cool ex-Wife while I work to promote the preservation of our precious places and rock the fuck out.