Great news, folks! I got my back support check. Hooray! It was indeed for the months of June-January, with no mention of February, March, or April. So, $28,800 down and only another $10,800 to go! I’m not holding my breath or quitting my second job just yet.
As always he must do something aggravating. The check was sent registered mail; I was taking a nap when the postman came by so I didn’t hear the doorbell. My mom let me know later, when she got back home, that someone had tried to deliver a registered letter. She was the one who thought it might be the support check. I figured I was getting sued or something.
Fast forward to today. Rock Star forwards me a text from CF. Please remind your mom to pick up the letter at the post office. I received notice that no one was there to sign for it. It is a check for the back support.
Really? Seriously? He can’t even send me a text to let me know that he sent the check and it’s sitting at the post office? He’s got to involve our daughter and make her the go between because he’s such a pussy he can’t communicate with me?
You would think that I was the one who cheated on him. Who moved him across the country so I could get closer to my lover. Who spent marital money on my new lover and his four kids. Who lied and deceived and was just an ass in general. You would think that I was the one who walked out the door one day without saying a word and moved to another state. Or that I was the one sharing a bank account and living with another man right under his nose.
Even better? His new checks now have his and Harley’s names on them. Delightful. I still deposited that fucker, though! In fact, above his notes in the memo line I wrote: Thanks, guys! And right below those notes I wrote: Disney, here we come!
I’m still hating him but at least I’m a little less poor as of today.