SB Is in a Fucking Funk

I don't know whether it's the damn fuck-fucking holidays, the fact that my court date for the divorce is hanging over my head (with no immediate end in sight), the fact that I can't lose weight to save my life, despite adding some exercise in, or what the fucking-fuck, but SB's ass is in a funk. Sorry folks, but that's what you get for being a regular reader of a blog written by a moody manic-depressive asshole.

I actually called yesterday to catch up with a good friend, who I have been out of touch with for months now, and at some point in the conversation, this friend said, "You sound really angry." This was after I explained to her not to take my out-of-touchness personally and that I haven't been doing much of anything--just getting through the damn work day and going home to the cats.

I had another old friend try to make plans to get together with me before the holidays the other day, and I told her there was no way and scheduled dinner in January.

I was really happy when I first moved out of my marital home, but now I am just energy-less and depressed. I guess divorce (even when you know it's totally necessary) is still like grieving a death. I am in the anger phase now, motherfuckers. I am pissed off that this court date is hanging over us--I just want to have it done with. Frankly, I felt divorced the day I signed the lease on the new digs. It was over when I moved my shit out. All this court bullshit is just dredging everything back up again. I am extremely pissed off that the government is involved in my personal relationship. Those fuckers even get to tax my paltry settlement check. So, yeah, I guess I am angry.

The Moms pissed me off by hanging up on me, and I haven't spoken to her in about three weeks now. I am mad that when I could really use the support, she had the fucking sheer brattiness to hang up on me. If a motherfucker hangs up on SB, SB does NOT call back. You teach a bitch how to treat you. The Moms always says that, and it is correct, and now she is learning it too.

This is it boys and girls. This is about as personal as SB cares to get. I just wanted all of you fuckers to know that I am not feeling very funny currently, and the posts may be somewhat sporadic.

For those of you that have my phone number or e-mail, this is NOT a plea for support. I really just want to be left alone to work through this. It will pass. Everything does.

Some random thoughts this morning. (Lucky you!)

1) Was Catherine Zeta-Jones sorry she married Michael Douglas, because basically, her ass sacrificed a semi-promising career to marry that Pepaw? Do they live in unadulterated bliss? Was it worth it? (I told you motherfuckers I think REALLY deep thoughts in the morning. I just can't turn the shit off.)

2) I don't believe in the kind of soul-mate passionate love assholes depict in the movies. I really don't.

3) I have lost my goddamn JOY in life, and I wish whoever took that shit would fucking give it back.

4) If I have to endure one more gray rainy pre-winter day, I am going to kill myself. (I actually said this to the dog this morning. In return, she farted. And it dawned on me that THAT fucking response was about as meaningful as anything man has come up with in thousands of years. The Buddha would have farted in response, too. That's about how meaningful this life is. There is no meaning besides what we subscribe to things.)

5) My khaki work pants have gotten so fucking tight, that after I zippered and buttoned them, I had to yank them the fuck up HARD (which momentarily hurt my moneymaker), or I would have come to work with plumber's crack. I threw a long sweater on to cover that shit up. Said sweater accentuates my fat overfed American ass.

[I would continue here with the chain of thought, but you get the picture. Some days, my own cynicism makes me want to throw up. I'd like to divorce myself.]