I had a nice slow start, and then Paul turned up around 11:30 and we hacked away at the separation agreement. I’m fine with it – Paul has to go away and think about one last issue, which is not a deal killer in my opinion. Either way, I’m ready to sign. It was embarrassing to realize we didn’t know how to spell one of daughter Katie’s middle names though – good thing the birth certificate is here.
After that we went into New West and got my name off the joint account (I’ve not touched it since long before I moved out, except to put money in it, but it makes sense to stop having a joint account) and then had a nice shop (more batteries, epsom salts, that kind of thing) and I left a message for the woman I want to do a video of me doing the Tapioca song so I can get it on Youtube. Tapioca belongs to the world! I kinda went nuts in my old butcher shop and dropped about $40 on meat, but Paul didn’t complain when I cooked him an early dinner (I MISS COOKING) of pork souvlaki, rice and greek salad (which he mostly prepped) rounded out with that lovely McAuslan Apricot wheat beer. Strawberries, blueberries, powdered sugar and cream for dessert, and we ate out on the balcony, with Paul occasionally wincing as the buses went by – he really hates bus noise.
Then we worked on each other’s feet and he napped on the Dreaded Sofa of Morpheus. He told me to wake him up about 10 to 7 but he looked so peaceful I let him snooze another 10 minutes. It was a very odd way way to spend the 25th anniversary, but we’re plenty odd people, and it was very peaceful. And productive. And hopefully quite typical of how things are going to be in future.