Here is what I did during my divorce:
1. Wandered through the house in my Snugli eating from a box of Captain Crunch
2. Drank a lot of wine and then sent scathing emails to my ex, which will definitely come back to haunt me if I ever run for Governor or anything.
3. Made Carrie Underwood’s Before He Cheats, my official ring tone
4. Caused my friends to run the other way if they saw me in the grocery store.
5. Drove my mother crazy
6. Finally SNAPPED out of it and hired an attorney.
I had narrowed my search down to two well known attorneys here in town, Judith Friedson and Madison Pierce. Judith had an A+ reputation and was known for causing grown men to cry for their mommys during mediations, but I fell instantly in love with the name Madison Pierce. She was the girl in junior high who was rushing off to cheerleading practice while I was rushing off to the orthodontist and HomeEc club meetings. I loved just saying the name as in “Oh yes, I am using Madison Pierce,” or “Perhaps you’ve heard of Madison Pierce? She’s my attorney,” as if I owned her. Let’s face it, she had me at Madison.
I felt hopeful as I drove to her office. I knew that Madison would lead me out of this dark hole victorious, with private Pilates sessions still intact and my monthly coloring at AVEDA hair salon still on the books. We would celebrate together over dirty martinis at Capital Grill. Over time we would become besties and probably have girl’s weekends in some fabulous South Beach resort. I’m feeling really good about this.
While waiting in the outer office, I made myself comfortable on the sleek microfiber, steel colored couch. Of course Madison would have contemporary and sparse surroundings, she didn’t need clutter and stuff. I checked out the titles of the books that had been placed on the coffee table for my perusal, Getting Out and Getting On, and The Official Guide of Dating Again. Across from me on a black leather arm chair was a throw pillow that said “EAT, DRINK and REMARRY.” How clever is my Madison?
Finally I was led into the inner sanctum. Behind a desk the size of an Army tank, all chrome and glass, sat Madison Pierce. Sunlight bounced off mirrored tiles above the wet bar and created a halo affect around her. My eyes had a little trouble adjusting to the light but I could make out a sleek, auburn page boy hair cut, and long red fingernails. She leaned back into her chair and said “So? Tell me.”
My tears began to fall, my nose was running and I was snorting like a pig. She pushed a box of Kleenex towards me and I could tell she was sort of grossed out, and maybe a teensy bit bored. I told her the story of the young girl from Switzerland who stole my husband and my perfect life.
“Did he buy her a car or any other property?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Well then, in this state she’s irrelevant.”
Hmm, this was not going as I had planned. I had expected her to jump from her chair and yell, “The injustice of this! I will have her deported, after coming to you on her knees with a sincere apology and a box of Godiva.”
She began to write out our plan. “We will ask for permanent alimony, and try for the house,” Yay Madison! “You will get 50% of all marital assets and sole custody of the children (of which there are four,) with free visitation.”
Uh oh, hold on, is that sole custody as in I have them ALL the time? Like every day and night, every meal, every school project that requires a hot glue gun? Every 24 hour stomach flu, every summons from the school principal or possibly the sheriff? That kind of sole custody?
She set a date for a mediation hearing and told me to go home and get all my files and paper work together and in order.
Problem 1. I don’t have any files
Problem 2. I don’t have any paperwork
Problem 3. What are you talking about.
Anyway, my time with Madison Pierce was up, as she shut my file and took off her diamond crusted reading glasses. “You’ll be hearing from me,” she said.
So ended my first get together with Madison Pierce. I headed home to be with someone else whose name I admired…Lay’s.