from the beginning — and what you need to know.


I’m concerned how you ended up here — either I gave you the link because I value your opinion on my extreme lack of writing skills. I promise you, dear friend, you will likely think less of me very soon. If I happen to not know you, I can almost guarantee some deep dark google search lead you here, and for that, I am sorry.

But not really sorry.

This will be a story — my story — of how I survived what is deemed to be “the hardest year of someones life”. Yes, I’m talking about that disgusting D word that ends in “ivorce”. Divorce. Ew gross. Negative feelings. Crying. Tears. Lots of ice cream. To be completely technical, we cannot file for divorce until one year of separation — so this is a work in progress.

Disclaimer: all names have been changed, including my own. My employer has also been changed, but it is hard to really disguise the nature of my work. I find humor in the darkest of things, and I can promise I did in fact hit rock bottom (or my version of it, anyways), but my reactions to it are far from what one would expect. That’s fine by me, and it should be fine with you too. If it isn’t, I encourage you to take a shot of tequila and fuck right off. Oh yeah, I curse like a sailor. You’ve been warned.

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