Worries

My life has become one worry after another. This week, I found myself in such an uptight state, that I think I've actually developed an ulcer. I mean, I'm worrying about some ridiculous things, like why my hair is always a mess or why can't someone besides me clean the cat boxes. Most of my concerns have come from financial woes. I hate not being in control of my destiny. One strange phenomenon I've noticed about being single is that if I put money in the bank, it's actually still there when I check on it. There is no one but me to spend it. That is definitely a bonus.

Because Mr. Sign and I share custody of the girls, I spend a lot of time alone now. I've never been alone for more than a day at a time in my entire life. I spent every minute that I could with my girls, being a stay at home mom for 10 years and then being as actively involved in their school as humanly possible. It's so strange to not know now what they are doing every minute and especially weird to have to entertain myself. I ride my bike 20 miles a day and still work out every morning. My house has never been cleaner.

I had moments this week where I actually questioned my decision to become single. I thought about how charmed my life had been. I had everything I needed including wonderful kids, a great house and car, awesome health and a husband who loved me. I'm the one who decided to put the fairy tale to an end. Was I out of my mind? Nah, I couldn't live my life in a lie. While I reflect on the time I spent as a married person, I realize that I had many good years and I don't regret any of them. But, I needed to look toward the future and my own happiness instead of the happiness of everyone around me. It was time for me to take care of me. If all goes well, I will officially be divorced on Tuesday, October 6, 2009. I'll have a little piece of paper that will end 22 years of togetherness.

Trust me when I tell you how weird it is to date. It's been 22 years since I had the privilege of worrying about what I'm going to wear, where we are going, who's going to pay and what are we going to talk about. I do admit to loving the butterflies when I first meet someone. I've had excellent responses from almost all of my dates. Most of them I have met on line and they have all been just what they portrayed themselves to be.

One guy in particular had such a great introduction message that I couldn't resist. I ended up adding to his story line and we went back and forth with this whole scenario for almost a month. Neither of us had said anything real in that time but decided that we should meet. So, I met him at a swanky bar downtown that I'd never been to. It was comical that we sat in a horseshoe shaped booth at opposite sides. He asked if he would recognize any of my sign work. I told him that we do all the directional signs for one of the local hospitals. He asked me if I knew "stepdad's name here". I said that I might know him a little bit. I asked him how they were acquainted. He said, "I was the engineering supervisor for the hospital project and worked with "stepdad's name here" and thought he was such a great guy. I yelled out, "You are (fill in guy's name here)!" He wondered how I knew his full name since we hadn't swapped surnames. Come to find out, he and I had talked many times on the phone and had emailed when he ordered signs, but had never met. Anyway, as the night, the loud band and our drinking progressed, we got closer and closer in the booth. We discussed the fact that we had both been married almost 20 years each and had only "we" stories. I still can't talk about anything without saying we, as in we did this and we went there. We decided it was time for us both to make some "me" stories. After the night ended with me going in for the hug, he messaged me that we had just made a "we" story. I retorted that at least it wasn't a "wee" story.

So, we have had several dates since. We both decided to move slowly. I'm not so sure now that I want to move as slowly as him, but he's worth waiting for. The fat girl in me worries about my weight, extra skin and low self confidence when it comes to him. He's very physically fit and downright thin. My brain tells me that he's going to reject me and throw me back to the wolves. I've told him several things about myself that would send most men screaming and yet he's still hanging around. I hold my breath every day that he still wants to see me. I love the butterflies and hate them at the same time. I'm learning to enjoy the ride, be it a slow one when I'm used to flying down that roller coaster. Maybe slower really is better. Hmmmm...