My new word is poop. Everything is poop. I have settled on poop because it’s more socially acceptable than me dropping the f bomb every other sentence. Plus, I’ve never written a blog title with overt obscenities in the title so I’m trying to hold on to that little shred of dignity.
On top of all the grief, having your husband die is a giant pain in the ass.
When you have lived with someone for over seven years, life gets pretty intertwined. Sorting all that out is a logistical nightmare in a divorce situation, but it seems harder with death. Everything needs formal documentation and a death certificate. That shouldn’t be a big deal, but I can’t get an official death certificate until I get the toxicology report… which takes 30-90 days.
Don’t let CSI or any of those crime shows fool you. Shit. Takes. Forever. Even though my house has been fully documented as a crime scene, I do not get any expediting on these results. Poop.
I’m doing what I can now, but every time I sit and think there are more things to do.
Early on the list was cancelling the Europe trip. We were supposed to leave this Saturday. By some stroke of dumb luck, I managed to buy trip insurance for the first time ever. Hotels.com was amazing to work with, and got 60% of my hotel rooms refunded for me even though I bought the discount “non-refundable” fee. American Airlines refunded miles for a fee, and returned the massive amount of miles to his Advantage account. I then had to figure out a way to cash them out for gift cards as soon as possible, because even though I inherit his debt that helped accrue these miles (thanks Texas) I don’t inherit the miles themselves. Poop.
Cross your fingers they don’t figure things out before I receive my stack of Target gift cards.
I also need to move. Everyone is all, “Don’t make hasty decisions! Take your time!” but that’s not my reality right now. My reality is that I live in a house I can’t afford on my own, and one that has a lot of bad memories in it. I want to be out of here as soon as possible, which means finding an apartment (I have great help/resources for this thank god) and getting rid of so many things.
Some of the things are easy to get rid of, like a food dehydrator. I have 0 emotional attachment to a food dehydrator. Other things are much harder. Poop.
I can’t even get his Google account turned off without several forms of scanned formal documentation (including death certificate), and he still shows up as Online & Available despite me reporting the account as deceased several days ago. A friend even mentioned something got shared on his Google Plus page somehow. Poop. Poop. Poop.
Life right now is kind of like a horse show – hurry up and wait, only a lot less fun.