nth Update

Another 60-hour week, plus another 7 hours in front of the computer today, and the prospect of another 2 or 3 tomorrow. But! Breakfast tomorrow with the Brazen One, by which time I should be finished with the said two or three hours of work, which means I get to have a half a day off, anyway. Today was pretty desultory, too; I didn't leave my apartment. And I finished off the evening by watching the rest of Wordplay, though I couldn't find Orange.

It's difficult to say what's going to happen at the bakery. The Saturday person from my school is so good that the chef (the one who sent me to the bakery) basically tracked her down and insisted she be an intern. I think she's going to do it (and I think she should), but that means Bossman and I are back to square one. Saturday's person brought another classmate with her, and I suppose there's a chance he'll join us, but either way it wouldn't be until July. I don't know what the fuck we're going to do for June; both Bossman and I are rather concerned about it, when we're not too busy to think about it. The markets start in full force next week (a Wednesday market, plus three on Saturday). Plus, he leaves for Camp Bread on Saturday and doesn't return until next Thursday, which means my life becomes more miserable; for one thing, I have to go in at least briefly on Sunday and Monday to process orders.

Bossman's wife continued to bemoan Brad's absence this week. One day I asked him why she misses him so much, and he said that she thinks that's why he isn't home. I said, "That's not true." And he said, "I realize that." Which, for us, on this subject, spoke volumes. Basically, she wants him to take off at least a day a week, but she doesn't realize that the reason he doesn't and can't is that we need to hire more people, a project that involves expending even more time. I've already told him that I can't give up another day to work at the bakery, that I can't afford it financially, which is true. (Let's face it, when I can make somewhere around $25/hour sitting in front of my computer or $10 to $15/hour making croissants, I'm gonna pick the former. And if all I make making croissants is $10/hour, then I really need the hours where I can make the $25.)

I had dinner Friday night with Chuck and his son, and everyone behaved. It's so very difficult, though. Lately I've been wanting to write to Chuck's sister, and I write and write and write in my head, and sometimes on the computer, but I don't send anything to her. For one thing, I'm afraid that, if Chuck were to find out, he'd keep me from seeing his son, and I don't want to essentially sacrifice my relationship with his son to make a point of some kind. For another thing, it's not clear to me that wanting to tell my story is a sufficient reason to write to his sister; it's too all-about-me for my taste. I'm beginning to lean toward sending her a brief email saying that I'd like to tell her more, but only (a) if she wants to read it and (b) if she doesn't tell Chuck. And, you know, she may not want to read it, which is her choice.

Last year I had brunch with Chuck and Son for Mother's Day--their "treat,' though it was probably my money he was using to pay--and of course I couldn't help but think about that today. Part of the reason I need and want to get this divorce done is that I'm worn out by the last-year-at-this-time thoughts, and I don't see them ending until we're divorced. Sometimes I'm consumed with anger, and I try to get past that, too. What's the point of being angry? It's not like that will repair anything; it's not like that will replenish my bank account with the money he begged, borrowed, and, in some ways, stole. (Speaking of money, apparently his car was booted this week, to the tune of $450, because he had too many parking tickets; he doesn't drive every day, so tickets get blown away, etc., and he didn't realize he had four instead of two. He was hoping his rent check doesn't bounce. Me, I was relieved to not have to deal with it--I paid for dinner, as I always do, but I made no offer to help out with the other shit. And, really, he should just park his car at his ex-wife's.) I realized awhile ago that I don't want anything from him except the money he owes me, so there's no point in engaging with him on the ending, on the stuff, on what he did or what I did or what might have been. If I wanted reconciliation with him, if I thought he were capable of even being my friend, I might make that effort, but I don't. Truthfully, I don't even expect to be able to maintain my relationship with his son. I want to do that--even though it would be easier not to--because I don't want to abandon him, and because I love him, but who knows whether Chuck will continue to allow it.