To those who still care about my story:

On Friday, I hopped on IRC and chatted with the gents there about what to speak with my lawyer about (meeting this evening). I've got the following:

  • Living arrangements for her and the kids? My name is the only one on lease. What about right to live?

  • Costs? How much do I have to contribute to her living expenses during divorce?

  • Kids? I can't (and shouldn't) take them due to my working 8-5. How will the courts view them?

  • Timescales?

  • How to get her to move out?

  • When do I move money?

  • Division of assets?

If there is anything you can think of that I'm missing to ask my lawyer, please post in comments.

Wife and I went out for a dinner date for her to try to "rekindle the fire" of our marriage (by going out to eat for the 7th night in a row and seeing a movie). Got some good (expensive) food and went to see This Is The End. Fuckin' best movie ever. Laughing the whole way through. But, as chance would have it, the evening was ruined before I could leave the parking garage. Some idiot high school kids were trying to leave and thought it would be funny to rev their engine and slowly inch towards my car, which had been sitting in line. I keep honking my horn, trying to get them to stop, but they keep going. Eventually, I pull up far enough to let them out and they start revving their engine behind me. I swear if I had a crowbar I'd bash their window in. Only reason I bring this up is to ask this: How would an alpha act if some high school kids slowly inched towards your car as a joke? My guess is to just ignore them until they hit your car and then beat the shit out of them.

Saturday, we went to her aunt's 4th of July party. Had to burn practically a half tank of gas to get out and back (one hour drive each way). My wife buys a 6-pack of Mike's Hard for us to share among 3 people (her, her sister, and me), which, if you remember my last post, starts putting some things into perspective. So I drink my two Mike's and leave it at that. My wife has two Mike's and does a shitload of Jell-O shots. She's drunk by the time it's dark, which puts me in a foul mood because I have to put up with the kids. The one time I call her out on her shit (in front of her family) is when I've already changed the shittiest pull-up I've ever changed and taken the oldest to the bathroom, and she wants me to get the girls juice-boxes while she gets hammered. A quick "Really?!" gets her sorry ass out of the seat to get them. I watched the fireworks alone because she wanted to sit with her aunt and the kids, which I don't really care about. Gave me some time to think about everything and the night's events just reinforced my decision. Yes, it's gonna be hell. Yes, I'm gonna get fucked over for being the biggest beta "nice guy" white-knight. But yes, I'm going to be happy after it's over.

Sunday is when the shit hit the fan (aka "Homework Day"). I was doing some stuff with LINQ (which I've never used before so I was getting frustrated), wife was doing math homework. Her + math = bitch fits. And boy, did she throw them. Kept yelling about how she "can't do this" and she's "dropping out of school", all stuff I've heard 1,000 times, so I'm unfazed. After she yelled her usual shit, she screams, "Are you gonna help me?!" I reply softly, "You've never asked me for help." Cue more bitch fits. Now, to the people thinking I should've said "I'm not gonna help you unless you calm down", I've tried that and it does nothing. I had to switch it up. Granted, I did help her but her sister took most of the brunt because her sister saw that I was trying to do my homework. Her sister is 17 (wife will be 23 in a week) and pretty smart, so it seems that she's the only good apple among a sea of rotten ones. I manage to get my homework done after fighting with the compiler and my wife finishes about an hour before me. We take her sister back to her mom's place (half hour each way) and wife is feeling too lazy to cook (fuck me). We go to the grocery store to buy dinner for the 8-9th night in a row and she drops this bomb: "So, I got my period this morning." Thank. Fuck. "So we gotta buy pads." I pretend to put on my sad boy face and say, "I'm sorry to hear that" when inside I was screaming "I CAN FINALLY GET RID OF YOU!" We buy dinner, pads, and tampons, and go home. I spend the rest of the evening playing Assassin's Creed: Revelations to vent some pent-up anger. She tries to put on some sexy moves to make me smile and I only put up with it to maintain the illusion so the divorce hits her like a fucking freight train.

This divorce is my only shot at revenge with her, so I have to make it count.