At long, long last, I am finally approaching my custody hearing on the 28th of November. While I am doing my best to be calm, especially since my attorney - whom I hold in the highest regard - says I have nothing to worry about, it has been a rather difficult task.
Certainly the 28th will not mark the cure of DH's deviously wicked evilness. As hard as I try to refrain from paranoia, there are those nagging thoughts here and there. What more could he be planning to avenge himself of my cunning plan to have a baby and leave?
Lately he has taken to referring to me as "genuinely crazy," "a nut case," and "completely insane." In fact, he makes these comments with such frequency and in such a calm manner that I begin to wonder...
Could it be?
Could I be insane?
Could he, who has been known up until now as nothing more than an Asshat, actually be a Board Certified Psychiatrist in disguise?
I could choose to worry endlessly about his plans to prove me an insane, unfit mother. But I have other interests to pursue as I await our court date.
So here I sit, whiling away the time on my tropical island paradise that was paid for out of my well-concealed fortune of rubies, gold, and chicken feet, feeding gooseberries and mint leaves to my magical pet unicorn, as I bathe in the sun with my dear friend, the one-eyed pork chop from a land far, far away.