This is the year I have to bite the
bullet and learn to ride a motorcycle. I don't know why I have to do
this, except that I don't want to be a pansy jerkface forever. Also
my husband wants me to learn. He says it will boost my confidence
and help with my comedy career and everything else. I can just see
him beaming with pride as I take his smaller bike out for a solo
ride, and filing for divorce after I drop it. It'll be OK, no one
will see me crying inside my full-body cast.
Another good way to get a divorce is to
buy some Ikea furniture and put it together, together. They call it
a desk, I call it “Box o' divorce!” At least when you split up
it'll be easy to divide the desk fifty-fifty, because that thing is
still not put together!
I don't want to divorce the Super, but
with men you never know. If they divorce you, you're lucky! I've
been watching so much stupid television I'm convinced about ninety
percent of marriages end when the husband kills the wife. And my
husband has all the tools at his disposal – helmet bags (perfect
fit for a human head – mine!) bungee cords (for strapping stuff to
the back of the bike, like your wife's dismembered body), and of
course all the chemicals and basement rooms he has access to as a
Super.
But if the Super wants a divorce, he'll
probably do it the biker way: loosen the screws on the backrest and
take me for a ride on a bumpy road.
Any time I've ever had a fight with the
Super, I've never had the gumption to get a divorce. First I get so
angry I can hardly see straight, then I turn on the computer to
search for “Divorce lawyer + New York City”. Then I start
watching puppy videos and clicking “here for a free Red Lobster
dinner for two” and before you know it, I forgot why I turned on
the computer in the first place. A slow internet connection and
short attention span have saved my marriage on several occasions.
But I have to admit that marrying the
Super was the best thing I've ever done. I'm happier married than I
ever was single. I never thought marriage was important but I'm so
glad I've got someone who cares let's say, for instance, if I were to
get hit by a tractor-trailer. That gives me a warm and fuzzy
feeling, and its not just the Super's back hair touching my arm.
I'm so grateful to have a person that
cares about me, shares with me, loves me (and my idiot cats) and
accepts me the way I am, oh, and thinks that I'm hilarious.
Of all the stuff I've done over the
course of my life, the only smart thing, the only thing that worked
out right, was marrying the Super. I'm so happy to have one part of
my life that's not frustrating (like trying to lose weight or make
money as a comic). I'm happy to have one part of my life that is fun
and not a struggle. I'm so glad the Super likes me. Let's face it,
he could find a woman that cooks, cleans, etc. but for some strange
reason, he likes having me around. For that, I'm extremely grateful.
Gratitude for great & small blessings
I loved reading this. You know you did a good job if you made me smile and chuckle over having a husband. The difference is you and he are a good fit apparently. It isn't a struggle, as you put it. You both did good. Tell the super I said so, and I know ALLLL about doing bad.
love the A.D.D. on the computer... I often forget what my original intentions were... ~S
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