Work, work, work, work All I did was work. I had just moved out and filed divorce papers to get rid of the fungus which was my soon to be ex-white husband.
I buried myself in work to get away from him. I was making great money and thought I had a nice bundle saved to take a nice vacation when I find out that my husband has been taking money out of my dresser drawers. He goes out a few times a week with the guys but I thought he was using his money. I went into my box of money that was mine - saved from my weekly allowance.
I would borrow from it from time to time but replaced it the next paycheck and added more. The girls and I went out once a month so I know I wasn't spending it.
I caught him one night as he thought I was in the kitchen as I followed him into our room and I saw him count out the money and help himself and stuffed it into his pocket. I confronted him and he told me that the money was his too because he contributes to my weekly allowance and I told him he gets his and I get mine and I've been saving.
He slapped me across the face and told me that I was wrong.
I told him to take it all if he felt that way and since I was on to him and his cheating ways as well, I told him "Go ahead, have an extra lap dance on me or better yet, get a room and get your rocks off" and I slammed the door.
I'm glad I didn't start cooking so I took my handbag and my keys and drove to this neighborhood bar about 2 blocks from our house. I was there once or twice before but it's been a while.
I made sure that I looked ok before I went in and then walked and sat down at the bar. I ordered my usual JD on the rocks and put a $100 bill on the bar. I didn't know if I should call my best friend and ask her to join me or just stay by myself. I didn't really want her there or any of my friends.