I’m laying here in a strange bed, in T.’s sister’s home. I’m tired; it’s past midnight and the Upstairsian woke me up early this morning. Busy day, too. In brief:
I went down to the Courthouse this morning and dropped off the rest of the paperwork for the divorce. I called The Ex from the parking lot and asked him why he hadn’t signed one of the pages that I’d very clearly indicated needed a signature. His response was that no one at the Court told him he had to. I replied, “but I told you that you had to!” Well, I went in and signed it and paid the fee. The fact that he’s a fucking idiot who had to make a second trip to the Courthouse really isn’t my problem. Seriously, though. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was doing everything in his power to fuck things up. Argh!!
Got in the car with T. and The Boy and drove four hours to Kingston. The only duller drive that I know of is the one to Windsor.
But, we did end up on the Highway of Heroes, a section of the 401 renamed for the fallen soldiers who land at CFB Trenton and are driven down the highway to Toronto for their autopsies.
And three men came home today from overseas. It really brought the loss home, seeing the people lined up on the overpasses across the highway, waiting for the convoy with the three hearses. It was extremely sobering. T. pulled over and we stood on the shoulder of the opposite side of the highway and watched the convoy drive by. Traffic slows to a trickle, then stops completely. Then the lights of the first OPP cruiser came around the bend. Then the hearses, and the vehicles with the families, and the Canadian Forces officials.
Anyway, we made it to Kingston and it’s late and I’m tired. I’ve eaten far more crap today than I should have, and I’m tired. Time for some sleep. I miss Indigo.
