You ever have one of those days where things just go so laughably wrong that you almost can’t believe it? Like, you are running late for work already and then you spill coffee on your shirt AND THEN there is traffic? Or, in my case, you are trying to get your passport expedited for a trip in 11 days and you find out in the process that your 8-year marriage is ACTUALLY INVALID because of a paperwork error? Don’t you hate days like that? Ugh, so frustrating, right?
I’m alone in that one, aren’t I?
Well, in case you too get that bombshell dropped on you by some bitch with a desk job in county government that she hates, let me tell you how it goes.
First of all, when you call to get a certified copy of your marriage license for a wedding that took place nearly a decade ago, expect the worst. Sure, you may have photos and a dress and tons of memories of the day you said “I do,” but none of that matters. According to Haggy McBitchFace, and I quote, “You may feel married, but you aren’t.” Your first reaction will probably be disbelief. You may do as I did and say “That makes no sense,” or “What in the sweet HELL are you talking about?” This is normal!!
What is also normal is to expect absolutely ZERO sympathy from the Old Hag Down at the Courthouse. She doesn’t care that you have been living a lie. She is worried about a paper trail and that is IT.
So at this point, you will probably begin asking for clarification. “How am I NOT married?” you may ask. You may think of all the dumb, inane and POINTLESS fights you’ve had over the years that prove without a shadow of a doubt that you are, in fact, married. And The Wicked Witch of the Bureaucracy will tell you that a crucial form that your ordained minister (not shaman or witch doctor or homeless man you found on the street) was supposed to fill out never made it into their records. AND YOU WILL SCOFF AT THIS. Because you will remember, in your Bridezilla state of list-making and OCD levels only seen in the highest-level-of-security mental hospitals, that you gave your priest this form and you know he signed it and you know it was turned in.
But that won’t matter. If Cruella DeFormLetter says it’s not there, you are at her mercy.
Now, at this point, you will feel defeated. Beaten. Humiliated. Let these emotions happen. Cry. Scream at your “husband.” Kick something.
Once you’ve sobbed yourself hoarse, it’s time to look at the bright side.
You’re a single gal again. And your “husband”? He’s single, too. No messy divorce, no drawn out court battles. You are free!
Once you are aware that you aren’t actually on a new reality prank show and that this is real life, go with it. Accept the new, single you. Isn’t that what Cosmo would tell you to do? (I have no idea because I haven’t read a Cosmo in 10 years as I recognize none of the fetuses it features on its cover.) So wipe that smeared mascara off your face, take down your Mom Ponytail and get ready for all the men to form a line at your doorstep (that you still share with your “husband,” but whatevs. It’s not like he can stop you now!). Because if there is one thing that I’m sure of is that dating life in your later 30s is easy and fun, right? Hold on, let me ask my single friends….
Fine. I’ll stick with the one I’ve got, paperwork be damned.