Wednesday, April 14, 2010
How many middle-aged people does it take to remember.....
I've spent much of the time concerned with bank statements over the past three weeks. What was the balance at this point and that point and that point, Mr. Ex's attorney wanted to know. I dutifully went in person to the two banks where Mr. Ex and I had our joint accounts and requested copies. My attorney and I exchanged at least a dozen somewhat lengthy emails on the subject. Then there were more questions and additional months needed. I'm tired. I'm frustrated. I want to write, not run around asking 30-yr. old bank vice-presidents for stacks of paper. The statements still go to Mr. Ex's house. The house that I moved out of. So today I hit the wall and emailed Mr. Ex and told him I'd be over at 10:00 tonight to pick up what I needed. Turns out that Mr. Ex's attorney, my attorney, Mr. Ex and I had copies of the bank statements in question all along. This divorce has been dragging on for two years and nine months. Between Mr. Ex and me and our attorneys we're over 200 years old. No wonder we don't remember what we have. I'm too fucking pissed off to find this funny.
I'm so pissed that I emailed Mr. Ex after he emailed me and "reminded" me there was an infant in his house and that I shouldn't come over and cause a disruption.
As a rule, I prefer to abstain from name-calling.
But I may grant myself dispensation on this one. Now what?