One Year

So today is the one year anniversary of my ex-husband's announcement that he wanted a divorce. It's also the thirty-seventh anniversary of my "boyfriend's" birthday. In a way, it's my birthday, too... the birthday of my single life, my new life, my husband-free future.

I'm supposed to go pick him up for lunch at eleven. I haven't heard from him in person for a couple of days, but he emailed me yesterday in a studied effort to be nice, though I had made plans without consulting him, and the plans didn't suit him. Maybe his birthday will be our breakup day. I've been waiting for that since we met. After our first date, such as it was, I fully expected -- fully! -- never to see him again, that we'd just have an innocent lunch and that'd be the end of it. When he kept calling, although I'll grant him he was very cool about it all and took his time, I was as surprised as anyone.

It's eight thirty now, so I have enough time for a good workout and to pack; I'm heading to Dallas, but I'm not at all ready to go. If I'm to arrive at eleven, I need to leave here by ten thirty at the latest. I have time for a quick workout, therefore. It helps to have the exercise equipment upstairs... but it IS nice outside, if a bit cold. A good rollerblade would be fun, but I'm not in the mood to enjoy one. I'm too distracted by trying to remember everything I have to coordinate to get today off of the ground.

Packing... trash... treats for Dallas... cats... it's not that much, really, but each thing takes time.

Off to the treadmill, then.