I don’t think I’m doing very well moving on after this divorce thing.

Stepford ex-wife by day, I can be overheard with my breezy “I’ve made an appointment with a professional appraiser to come by on Monday…Yes…OK…I’ll just call you when I hear from her with her estimate…Yes…OK…Thank you…Bye.”

Screaming Banshee by night, I’m having frequent dreams of yelling the blood-curdling truth to an unresponsive (just like in real life) ex. One dream was in court with a lawyer telling me to keep the emotion out of it. Often it is simply me explaining and my ex ignoring (just like in real life).

I had a dream this week that my ex was walking toward the door during my emotional outpouring to leave for a New Year’s Eve party. Like this past year, it was the third New Year’s Eve since our separation, and I was wondering why I still wasn’t ready to start over. He, on the other hand, was dressed in what was supposed to be what he considered good partying wear. A black leather shirt hugged his pot belly, and black leather mail carrier-length walking shorts (he used to be a mailman) were not the complete ensemble because black leather suspenders were the finishing touch. After I got done questioning why I wasn’t getting over the divorce, I did question how the dating scene was going to respond to that outfit and that, thankfully, that situation would be his problem.

No, I don’t think I’m moving on yet. But at least I don’t dress like a dork.