My friend Heather is going through some rough times, and all the weirdness I felt about spending time with her/her husband has evaporated. I was worried about running into my X, about having to fake civility at a party, about making people choose, Hmm, we can’t invite Paul because she’s going to be there… Or, even worse, the other way around.

And I pretty much hate Paul now. Not his fault, totally. My fault. I hate him because I spent so much time with him. He was arrogant, lazy, and cheap. He refused to commit to a conversation about the future, pinning my at the time undissolved marriage on me like a scarlet A. And when I told him that we should take a “break”, for the fourth time, he said he should never have taken me to all those hockey and Mavs games, and that I should be grateful that he took me instead of one of his dude friends, who would have appreciated it more.

Note to self: never date lawyer ever fucking again.

Why rant now? Pent up fury. Anger for Heather, anger with myself for wasting so much time in my life on worthless men. It’s not Paul’s fault, it’s mine. I didn’t have the strength to “hurt” him by breaking up with him for good for a long time. But when you meet someone on your first date and say, “Er…OK, I guess…” an it never gets better from there? It’s a sign, girlfriend…

Note to you: don’t hire the lazy bastard as a lawyer. He is not interested in “fighting for your rights”. I have it straight from the horse’s mouth that the best course of action is the one that’s easiest and most convenient for him. Go figure.