When the third person asked me why I was working Monday I may have overreacted. Why shouldn’t I work? What the hell is going to happen when I go sign the divorce decree? Does a lightening bolt strike me while I’m signing therefore making it impossible for me to function the rest of the day? Why do people keep asking me if I’m working? Yes. I am working the day I signed my decree. I scheduled my patients remotely, and blocked out the middle of the day so I could drive to the mediation office, sign, drive home, and see more patients remotely.
I signed about forty pages of documents. Sitting next to my ex at a lovely glass table in a swanky office in a swanky suburb. We had only done remote sessions so I finally met my mediator face to face and the attorney who drafted the final decree.
But let’s back up to Friday. Because that’s when the true saga of Monday started. I stopped into the office for the mail, with the boys, who had to pee, and the toilet didn’t flush. It could not be plunged. It was late, I had to leave with them. I came back Sunday to try plunging again. Didn’t work. I called the landlord. Maintenance guy came. Plunged it some more. No go. I made signs. A special plumber came on Monday. The day of the divorce decree signing.
I’m not sure what it says that I was literally receiving calls and texts and pictures from my employees, the plumber, and the landlord all about the toilet during the divorce decree signing- it had to be taken off the hole, pipes had to be snaked, I then received a picture of what was pulled from the pipes. 400$ later and two plumbers…the toilet was working again.
I always thought those signs telling people not to flush paper towels were stupid. Because who would flush paper towels when there are trash cans (TWO trashcans in our bathroom)? But I guess people do that. I now have that sign up. I also switched it to a key lock so only employees can use the en suite bathroom; clients can walk down the hall to the toilet the landlord is responsible for.
Even if I did not have clients scheduled I would have been working. That’s what happens as a business owner…you have to deal with a clogged toilet, and look at the presents pulled out of the pipes…as you sign your divorce decree.
It was possibly the most polar opposite of a wedding as I could have gotten. I reflected on our wedding sitting at the table. We were surrounded by friends, family, (and I counted…fifteen couples who were at our wedding have separated due to divorce or death…so yeah morbid), and had good food, good dancing, and overall a great party. In contrast divorce is completed with strangers, no celebrations, and in my case pictures of poop covered paper towels popping onto my phone.
In my case we have to co-parent still, and she moved out almost a year ago. So it didn’t feel like anything monumental. It felt like another thing I had to do. Nothing in my day to day changes at this point. I drove home, got cut off by a car with license plate “SINISTER” who flipped me the middle finger as he almost took out my car. Again, another sign from the universe? I don’t know. I snapped a picture of his license plate instead of flipping him off back, because seriously who would have believed me?
The rest of my drive was uneventful as I mulled over the toilet and Sinister. Two days later it was a full moon and I had therapy with my new-ish therapist. I relayed my divorce signing adventures. I told her I don’t really feel anything, and she reflected I had grieved the loss of my marriage long ago. Which is true.
I always said I wouldn’t have wanted my wedding any other way. It was truly an epic party. I think of it now as a space and moment in time where these 86 people got together on a cold December night, and partied our asses off. Some would lose partners to cancer, others to “irreconcilable differences” as it says on my decree. But for that one night it was all perfect.
Thinking back on my divorce signing I chuckle and think the same as I thought before. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Lesbehon...est 
Hugs.
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