my super fun night

Does the whole sarcasm thing translate to typing?

I am currently a firm believer in Art and Music. Therefore I volunteered at an art show. It worked. It was super fabulous, a beautiful night and I took a long walk to savor the beauty of Chicago in the fall. I saw my favorite Henry Darger, talked to some artists, some big time art collectors and generally made myself grateful for the experience.

Problem 1 - I was sober.
Problem 2 - I was alone with no plans.
Problem 3 - Thought it might be OK to call Nelson Algren to extoll the virtues of my brilliantly planned evening.
Problem 4 - Instead (quite smartly) went to Borders and read horrible, depressing self-help books about divorce and having pride and not calling the guy who tells you to your face how horrible you are.
Problem 5 - Purchase Best American Essays (yes I do that every October).
Problem 6 - Take myself out to McDonalds for dinner. In the Loop. On a Saturday night.
Problem 7 - Get a phone call from husband asking me to coffee and offering a ride to my P's.
Problem 8 - Start screaming at husband (in McDonalds) that he is not allowed to take away my dog and offer me coffee in the same week.
Problem 9 - Proceed to scream at husband through cell phone that I am not coming back ever again and that I don't believe that we can make it work.
Problem 10 - Yes I stood up for myself but I also was the crazy girl in the polka dot skirt walking down Randolph Street screaming 'You are killing me. I'm never coming back. We did this for 4 years. Why should I come back to that?'

And he keeps on asking me if I understand how he could keep hoping....he has absolutely no idea.

But this is the one that I want to throw in Nelson's face: He said I didn't make him feel bad about himself - the situation I was in made him NOT LIKE himself. I get out of the situation and confess all these stupid emotional things to him. He invites me over, does fabulously dirty things to me and then proceeds to tell me how horrible we are together. And then does this whole 'I can't believe I haven't touched you since February and I thought you got it on with more guys shit.'

I know that the best revenge would be to just be fabulous and make out with someone cute in front of him - however - I don't have a lot of free time to be getting my groove on right now.

Oh - that's right - I HAVE NO FREEDOM TO GET MY GROOVE ON RIGHT NOW. Now it makes sense. Would it be so wrong to guilt him into sleeping with me as a stress reliever? Or is that just tacky? I frankly think he owes it to me.

And I frankly think that'll never happen.

But I stated my fear of weekends earlier - and this is why. I don't need to be calling stupid boy and the husband doesn't need to be calling me. Spare time is evil.