Okay, I know I just sprung this looming dissolution of my marriage on you last Thursday. For some of you it was even a surprise. But I've had the definitive knowledge this separation was coming since late March or early April, and a years-long battle with the expectation of it before then. It wasn't until I came clean and told everyone last week that it stopped feeling like a nightmare I couldn't shake and started to feel more real. I'm even starting to feel a slight sense of acceptance and I'm gaining access to the idea that life will indeed go on afterwards. Still don't like it; still don't want it. But I'm not in denial that it is coming anymore. Hiding it felt like concealing something shameful in the hope that no one would judge me a failure. It ate at me inside. I still find myself tearing up pretty easily, but I'm able to talk without stomach pain more often now. It's welcome progress.
I joined my first committee at Rotary today. I should have done this weeks ago, but obviously I've been a little distracted. I was invited to sit on the social committee, and in any normal year, this would be absolutely the right place for me. This is not a normal year. But join I did, and I didn't say a whole lot. Finally, at the end, one of the women who led the discussion asked me if there was anything I wanted to add, and I quietly declined, and she looked a little closer at me and asked whether I was okay. So to the other four women (one of whom already knew), I calmly explained what I was going through, in one concise sentence. It was freeing to be able to say it without drama, without shame, and without whispering. I received immediate support and didn't feel like I had to make a big production of it. And they all totally understood my desire not to be loud and pushy at my first committee meeting. Now, a month or two from now, when I'm firmly entrenched on this committee, I'll probably recover my loudness and pushiness, but it will be too late by then.
We have been struggling with progress on the bathroom remodel that had to be done before he fully becomes Mr X. A few weeks ago, I asked him to seal up the downstairs shower that we have never used, and maybe find out why that bathroom always smells like mold, before he leaves for good. So he poked around just enough to find that he needed to pull the vanity away from the wall. And then he peeked behind the shower insert. And then it was too late, he'd discovered the source of the moldy smell (spoiler alert: it was mold) and he had to pull the whole stinking thing out. I hadn't intended on a major remodel, but once he tore the plastic insert removing it, we went looking for tiles. And once we looked at tiles, I realized how desperately I'd wanted subway tiles (for years). And once we found a whole bunch of matte finish subway tiles at the building salvage store in Boulder, I was committed. Problem was, we didn't quite have enough to do the whole shower stall. We tried a lot of different stores, new and salvage, trying to find more subway tiles that were matte finish in a biscuit color, and it was nigh on impossible. One young saleslady even called the tile manufacturer for me, and they don't make them anymore. I could not be moved on my plan, though. Today Mr almost-X drove all over Denver and the suburbs, hitting every salvage store he could, and came up with 36 more matte finish tiles. It was a sixth of what we needed. So we devised a plan to fade from matte finish at the bottom to gloss at the top, with a small handful of accents thrown in. He laid it out on the floor tonight, and lo and behold, it's actually going to be a really neat effect. I'm so glad I stuck to my guns and insisted on this size of tile. I didn't take a photo while it was laid out, but I promise, as soon as it's on the wall, I'll reveal it. No more secrets here.
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