I think it’s safe to say that in general, Monday is the least popular day of the week. We see the memes, and hear the newscasters and DJ’s make jokes about it as we head into our busy week. It’s weekly headlines and office jokes. “Mondays suck” messages plaster our Facebook wall.
I drove my kids to school this morning. It’s cold, wet and snowing. Big, fluffy snowflakes are falling and coating the earth here in New England. The roads are icy. The Polar Vortex is back. We are creeping into out long cold winter. Reluctantly welcomed by many, as it stays far too long. My summer tan lines are fading. Bathing suits, sun dresses and cami’s have been packed away. Wool, fleece and flannel have come out from their short summer reprieve in the hope chest. The furnace hums and unfolded blankets litter the chairs and sofas. My mud room floor is wet from foot traffic of the cats, dog and us as we’ve already started this Monday.
I’m home alone now. I welcome the solitude. I’ve always looked forward to my kids and husband leaving on Monday morning. Listening to the Today show, sometimes watching a segment that catches my interest; Scrolling thru Facebook to look at the pictures and read the stories and experiences that my friends and family share. Often, I would find a recipe or many, and neatly file them away on my Pintrest. I’d make a list, sometimes written, most times mental, of all the things on my to-do list for the coming week. I stay in my jammies and drink coffee, cuddle a cat. Sometimes I’d go back to sleep. I allowed myself to enjoy the peaceful Mondays, to not feel pressured to do something or guilty because I’m not. I have a 3 story house with 6 cats, 5 people and a dog as habitants… There is always something that needs to be done! Guess the point is, I never hated Mondays. I’d wait for them and I welcomed them. Mondays recharge me. I would prepare myself for the next 6 days of chaotic schedules and unstructured routines. It worked imperfectly, but Monday would soon arrive again soon.
Six weeks ago, my Monday mornings changed. That particular Monday, my husband let our son take his car to school and then work and he planned to take the bus. This all so I didn’t have to drive my son to work after school. Because it was raining, I felt guilty, to not offer to drive him. I did and he accepted. I drove in my jammies. I returned home and was greeted by my dog and the Today show.
I’d planned for this particular Monday morning for 3 days. Since finding the “I miss you too, baby xoxoxox” text to LKL. As I’m sitting here writing this I can’t tell you why I didn’t further investigate that very day, after finding that message. But I didn’t. My parents had stopped over for coffee. They brought banana bread with chocolate chips, an indulgent favorite of mine. They brought an anniversary card for us. I was nauseous and later vomited. I don’t remember much more about the visit. My ears were ringing and I had this weird heavy sensation. I was trying to make sense of the text he sent to someone who was so personal. “He calls me baby.” I was hurt, but mostly able to rationalize it, at least enough to get thru the busy weekend we had ahead of us. “I know my husband…” He’s charming and charismatic. He’s a flirt. He would never cheat on me. He came home with 16 long-stemmed red roses, his traditional anniversary gift. One for each year we’ve been married. Also, a lovely card that I found just this past weekend and reread. Now it ends with “but I’m having an affair and I’m lying to you.” All the cards, memories and moments, holidays and months. Years. Now those all end that way… So many fucking lies.
We sat by a fire out back that night, after I found that message. Smoked some pot, had a beer. We talked about the day. He decided that he wasn’t going to go to D.C. for a planned business trip the following Wednesday thru Friday. I’ve since learned this trip was arranged by LKL, and that she would have been with him. I found an email, that Monday, he sent, stating he had to cancel because our youngest needed him and I had work obligations. Yeah, he blamed it on me… He said he would be in touch with her Monday. We went thru the weekend as casually as our weekends typically are. But I waited for Monday.
I don’t remember the specific details of how I began my search, or where even. I did figure out who she was, where she worked and realized she was someone I have known by name, for years. They had connected on Facebook years ago, childhood friends. She was friends with his sister, since childhood as well. Friends with my father-in-law. I knew he had sex with her when they were in high school. I knew enough to know that my husband was having an affair. I don’t know how much I searched that day. It all blurs with all the searching I did over the next few days. But I knew enough. My landslide started. I didn’t have a plan to confront him. But he called and asked if I would pick him up. It was still raining. I did. It was grey and dreary and I just asked you, to tell me more about LKL. I think I was still hoping that he could explain it, that I was wrong. But I knew enough. I’ve come to know so much more. I still have so much to learn.
We had some good moments this weekend. We went to Starbucks. I wanted to try one of the new holiday drinks. I’m not sure why, but is was irritable on entering. I was short with him trying to decide what baked treat to share. I told him to just pick something, that I didn’t care. We ordered our drinks and he paid for them, along with the pastry. We waited while the barista made our brew. Still irritated, he sweetly tried to feed me a bite. I didn’t want it, but took it .. A mouthful of banana bread. It made me nauseous. I’ve since decided the Caramel Brûlée Latte sucked. That may be unfair. His phone rang and he answered, further irritating me. I walked out to the car. He followed, a few feet behind. We went off to do our shopping. I later asked if he took her to that Starbucks. He did. So there were some shitty moments…We got home to an empty house. Had some wine and mind-blowing sex. Watched something. I mostly enjoyed being around him. I always have. The rest of the weekend went like that good moments and not so good moments. Some really shitty ones.
So that sets the stage for my new Monday morning. I get to here and just want to melt into a grief-stricken, frightened, confused, overwhelmed puddle of tears. On Mondays I don’t have to keep his affair a secret, protecting it, as our kids don’t know what he’s done to me. I just want to shut the world off and deal with this crisis in my life. Without any distraction. Don’t we all? But no, I’m sitting here making my mental list and recharging as best I can to be ready for the next week.
It’s the starts “Hockey Season.” My son and 15 yo daughter both play. So does my husband. There’s some excitement about the season this year, as my son, who’s played for 12 years missed last season. He missed lacrosse and soccer season as well. He had the misfortune of needing both his ACL’s repaired, 9 months apart. Completely separate incidents.
I also need to make a call to my youngest’s dance school. Her competitive dance season is ending short, abrupt. I talked with the surgeon this morning. I need to discuss her contract and try to return about $800.00 worth of costumes that have arrived over the past few weeks. Hopefully recoup some of the fees we’ve invested for competition. I need to talk with her private instructor and cancel her solo lessons. I need to check the status of her $2500.00 back brace, to treat her back injury.
It’s the holiday season. I’m hosting Thanksgiving. I have for years. This year has a small guest list, just my parents. I’m need to invite my brother, his girlfriend and their daughter, my 4-year-old niece. The rest of our family have plans to travel elsewhere, much to my relief. I need to make my menu and shopping list. I need to bake some and get my jelly roll pan back from my sister-in-law. I’m dreading this holiday season. I host Christmas too, but I’ll deal with that after Thanksgiving.
Right now, all I can manage is this moment, This Monday moment. The rest is just too overwhelming.