I hadn't slept a wink.

I spent the night alone in the apartment, seeing the gaps in the closet from the clothes

might packed up and slunk away with, the black hole where his toothbrush usually is.

Without his warm feet and soft breathing, I felt alone.

So, yeah, I couldn't sleep.

Not to mention, I had to resist the urge to smash our flea market trinkets.

And then resist the urge to give up, pack them up, move out.

It was like a yo-yo in my mind.

Smash.

Pack?

Smash.

Pack?

Meanwhile, Liz looks refreshed and oh so chipper. How does she do it?

Huh, she flies for work all the time. Maybe that's why.

I feel like I'm going to throw up just thinking about hurdling through the air in a metal can.

Here's our gate. Oh, there's good chairs by the window. Come, come.

Plain or terminal, I love a window seat.

Sit, sit, sit, sit.

Last time you said that, you bulldozed me and booked us on a pity trip.

A divorce moon.

It's festive, empowering, and healing.

Right, fun.

...