For the last 4 months I've been living in Rockland at my Dad's trying to figure out some things (is my marriage going to last, am I a good father, will I ever work again, am I repeating my past). The answers to these questions are no, I hope so, fingers crossed, sadly yes. The main question I've been asking myself is how did I get here. There isn't a simply answer, but the writing was on the wall. Morgan and I was some sort of cosmic joke from the start. I've complained to anyone who would listen for the last for years who sad I was with her, but always convinced myself that perhaps things could work out. The reason for us not working out or numerous as well as obvious if you spent any time with us. For about the past week and a half we have stopped talking after having a long fight on the phone. The marriage is over. At our last court appearance in Sept we filed for an extension to see if you could work it out. In Feb we will go back to court and get a for divorce. It's not overly important but she filed for divorce not me. My current relationship I have with Julian is strained at best. I don't get up so see him nearly enough and with my car dying last month (minor work needs to be done but once again I'm pleading poverty) I've only seen him once at his 2nd birthday party and that was only for a couple of hours. To add insult to injury Morgan is 7th months pregnant with our daughter. So for all you mathematicians we split up/I left (depending on who you listen to) whilst she was with child.
It's been only a week or so where I finally admitted to myself that my Mom's passing has deeply affected me. When I had, very unexpected, I processed the information and moved forward. We my grief has got up to me, in the process destroying my marriage and the company that I worked for. So where do I go from here? Well I finally stared, albeit half-assed, looking for work. The problem there is I'm either over or under qualified for most open jobs. However, I have applied for a few jobs.
In closing this entry isn't a aw poor Dave, I needed to see my life written out and think about it. Call it therapy. Happy Holidays. (is it too early for that?)
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