Anyone going through a divorce can probably relate.
Ever have one of those months where you wake up every morning thinking that today will be better because it can't get worse than yesterday? Then a couple hours into your day, you discover a new level of misery. That's the month I'm having.
Divorce, one of the coldest words in the human lexicon and my current antagonist, has brought animosity into my life. What started off as a reasonably amicable separation has turned cantankerous. Greed has reared its ugly head and I'm being sucked into a maelstrom of anger and selfishness. I personally have better things to do than fight, but divorce doesn't allow you to bow out gracefully when your dance partner has an itch for conflict.
I'm not a believer in the gods with the best propaganda, but I do believe in science, karma and balance. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Being served with court papers, at work in-front of coworkers is no fun, but it is even more antagonistic when your ex-wife works down the hall and you thought that the workplace was neutral territory. However, when a person declares war, I suppose courtesy and affability get trampled in the rush for victory.
In a divorce, the division of assets seems to include family and friends. Why be neutral when you can pick a side and wreak guilt free havoc. Unfortunately at work I drew the short stick and many people have sided with the opposition, including my lab manager. Divorce is anything but pleasant.
What really inspired this short story is some of the karmatic forces that seem to be at work. Oddly, for every bad thing that has happened, something uniquely useful or timely has happened. For example, after my ex-wife's declaration of war, I serendipitously discovered a signed and dated hand written (hers) agreement that clarifies my position perfectly. I had totally forgotten about this document and it was stashed away in a pile of work papers that would probably keep the Arc of the Covenant safe for a few centuries, but it seemingly just ended up in my hand while looking for something completely unrelated.
A few days later I picked up my kids from school and phoned in for a pizza pickup. The problem was I forgot my wallet at home and had no money on me. Going home and coming back would take 40 minutes and with two hungry kids that would be a nightmare. In the parking lot I got out of the car and looked to see if my wallet fell between the door and the seat and what did I see, a $10 bill and some change. It was just enough to pay for the pizza.
Today I was informed by my lab manager, who is a good friend of my ex-wife, that she wouldn't be signing my paysheets (2 weeks) for "ethical reasons" (her words) as she felt my work performance wasn't up to her expectations for two days of work where she wasn't even in the lab. No doubt this was a grievous abuse of power. Having the usual living expenses, as well as supporting two young children, my tolerance for stupidity and authoritarian rule reached a new low. The issue was resolved, but not without the demoralizing effects of working in enemy territory.
A disheartening day to say the least. As I began my five minute trudge to the car, under dreary skies, I contemplated what the encore to this day would be like. I unlocked my car, buckled my seat belt and put the key in the ignition. With a seemingly energy sapping twist of my wrist, I started the old Jetta. It's not unusual for me to drown my thoughts with loud music, and many a mechanic has suffered hearing damage starting my car. As I sparked the engine to life, there was a brief pause in the wall of sound that emanates from my chosen radio station, but then as if by design the first notes of "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns N' Roses began playing at an all to appropriate sound level. As the chill ran up my spine, I jammed the car into gear and a huge smile broke across my face as I thought "ain't that the f#*!ing truth".
Ever have one of those months where you wake up every morning thinking that today will be better because it can't get worse than yesterday? Then a couple hours into your day, you discover a new level of misery. That's the month I'm having.
Divorce, one of the coldest words in the human lexicon and my current antagonist, has brought animosity into my life. What started off as a reasonably amicable separation has turned cantankerous. Greed has reared its ugly head and I'm being sucked into a maelstrom of anger and selfishness. I personally have better things to do than fight, but divorce doesn't allow you to bow out gracefully when your dance partner has an itch for conflict.
I'm not a believer in the gods with the best propaganda, but I do believe in science, karma and balance. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Being served with court papers, at work in-front of coworkers is no fun, but it is even more antagonistic when your ex-wife works down the hall and you thought that the workplace was neutral territory. However, when a person declares war, I suppose courtesy and affability get trampled in the rush for victory.
In a divorce, the division of assets seems to include family and friends. Why be neutral when you can pick a side and wreak guilt free havoc. Unfortunately at work I drew the short stick and many people have sided with the opposition, including my lab manager. Divorce is anything but pleasant.
What really inspired this short story is some of the karmatic forces that seem to be at work. Oddly, for every bad thing that has happened, something uniquely useful or timely has happened. For example, after my ex-wife's declaration of war, I serendipitously discovered a signed and dated hand written (hers) agreement that clarifies my position perfectly. I had totally forgotten about this document and it was stashed away in a pile of work papers that would probably keep the Arc of the Covenant safe for a few centuries, but it seemingly just ended up in my hand while looking for something completely unrelated.
A few days later I picked up my kids from school and phoned in for a pizza pickup. The problem was I forgot my wallet at home and had no money on me. Going home and coming back would take 40 minutes and with two hungry kids that would be a nightmare. In the parking lot I got out of the car and looked to see if my wallet fell between the door and the seat and what did I see, a $10 bill and some change. It was just enough to pay for the pizza.
Today I was informed by my lab manager, who is a good friend of my ex-wife, that she wouldn't be signing my paysheets (2 weeks) for "ethical reasons" (her words) as she felt my work performance wasn't up to her expectations for two days of work where she wasn't even in the lab. No doubt this was a grievous abuse of power. Having the usual living expenses, as well as supporting two young children, my tolerance for stupidity and authoritarian rule reached a new low. The issue was resolved, but not without the demoralizing effects of working in enemy territory.
A disheartening day to say the least. As I began my five minute trudge to the car, under dreary skies, I contemplated what the encore to this day would be like. I unlocked my car, buckled my seat belt and put the key in the ignition. With a seemingly energy sapping twist of my wrist, I started the old Jetta. It's not unusual for me to drown my thoughts with loud music, and many a mechanic has suffered hearing damage starting my car. As I sparked the engine to life, there was a brief pause in the wall of sound that emanates from my chosen radio station, but then as if by design the first notes of "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns N' Roses began playing at an all to appropriate sound level. As the chill ran up my spine, I jammed the car into gear and a huge smile broke across my face as I thought "ain't that the f#*!ing truth".
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