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2003-09-23 @ 8:51 p.m.
Austin Powers K.S.

There is a glomaphlobade (don't look that word up, I just made it up) of Married Guy's chili is sitting in my stomach. I'm not used to chili and its not used to my stomach and neither of us are doing well.

It was another double header today. Shrink in the morning. Married Guy in the afternoon/evening. As much as I like them both, I'd rather spread them out over several days, just so I could digest their various idiosyncrasies.

My shrink decided to get proactive with me today. Instead of telling me to get rid of the Married Guy he offered to buy me a month's worth of Match.com. You know, Love@AOL. He wants to get me out into date-land (so much more dangerous than diaryland), surreptitiously suggesting that I shed the Married Guy in the process.

I am scared to death to date AVAILABLE men, because, gasp, then I'd have to be AVAILABLE. Emotionally, spiritually, physically. Naturally, shrinkie being shrinkie, we had to talk about..

SEX!!!!!!!!!!!!

He was so kind. He offered to get me a copy of Austin Power's Kuma Sutra. Honest to God. Yup. Yes, I actually entrust my mental health to this guy. But comments like that actually really score with me. I like humor. Everytime I thought of it the rest of the day I'd burst out laughing. Now he knows what to get me for Christmas.

I went to Married Guy's house late in the afternoon for piano lesson with the kidster. He had asked me if I would take his older son to his music lesson down in the village. He was going to a school board meeting.

Um, you got a wife.

Oh wait, you got me. The knucklehead willing to do the grunt work while wifie gets the benefits (the house, the SUV, the bank account, the furry man body). How dumb am I? God, don't ask my shrink that. He keeps throwing the word obsession around. I don't exactly obsess over Married Guy. Its not like I sit around and write our married name on napkins or anything. I never think in terms of Us. Ever. I just drive 30 miles round trip to take his kid to music lessons.

Dinner at his house was pretty tense. Wifie seemed uptight for some reason. Earlier I had been sitting out in the yard and their cat was in my lap smooching the hell out of me, and she walked by and said, "Well, at least someone is happy to see you."

Ouch. Maybe I heard that wrong.

And then she didn't appear to know I was staying for dinner. Guess Married Guy forgot to tell her. I made sure she knew why I was there (taking the kid to the music lessons -- you know -- making your freakin' pampered life easier). She barely talked the entire meal. She dished out all the pasta and didn't leave any for me. I only had a little chili, which has left my stomach in bad shape.

I have a feeling Married Guy was probably in the dog house for something, and I was making it up for him, by relieving her of music lesson toting duties. Of course, its weird to have "the other woman" doing tasks. I'm not really the "other woman". Just in my head, of course.

Its a little tough for me too though. I don't live as close as I used to. Driving all the way over there, so the princess can pout, is not too good for my self esteem either. And the same scenario is being set up for tomorrow night too. His other son, my little cutie pie, needs to be driven to HIS lesson. Where's wifie tomorrow night? Probably the same place. Having a glass of wine out in the garden or cleaning her paint brushes out in the art studio Married Guy built for her.

If that is all wifies do, than sign me up.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty

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