Happily Ever After, My Ass

This post isn’t really about my ass. It’s not even about me. It’s about my friends and clients and friends who are also clients.

A couple posts ago I talked about the pregnant people driving me nuts. One of those people is a friend of mine in real life who is also a friend on facebook. The other day she posted something about how she couldn’t wait til her husband gets home because he’s such a great guy and something about how he’s so wonderful that even a moment away feels like an eternity. I almost puked because, uh, I was so happy for her. Or something. My initial unkind reaction was, “What are you, like 15? Grow up already.”

However, recent events have made me realize that when it comes to…this stuff…we never grow up. We’re always obnoxious twitterpated teenagers. My 60-year-old friend would not shut up the other day about her new boyfriend; I felt like I was hanging out with a giddy 16-year-old. Another friend of mine, in his early 50s, took a call from his “lady friend” last week and I just wanted to hit him because he was grinning like a fool the whole time. “If they ask where you’re going, just tell them you’re going to a friend’s house,” he was telling her. What, are you seventeen and sneaking out?

Some of you might be thinking, “Aw, but that’s sweet.” Okay, whatever, it might be sweet in a weird puketastic way, but to me it’s a sign of something much worse. If we never grow up when it comes to this mushy crap, it also means we never grow up when it comes to the relationship drama either. I didn’t even realize I held this belief until recently, but somewhere deep down I always thought it got easier when you got older. I don’t know why I thought that, but I did. That maybe once you grew up, you were over the silliness and acted normal and kind of boring but in a good way.

Nope.

A client just the other night was complaining how his wife is batshit crazy right now because she’s on some weird hormone diet. Another client I hadn’t seen in about a year was making references to trying to patch up his home life–which was in shambles the last time I saw him. Really? You’ve been “working on your home life” for a year and…no progress? One of my friends is filing for divorce against a woman he’s been married to for over 20 years; he told me, “Throughout our entire marriage, I think we had maybe one good year?” His wife is trying to make him take her back and I have no idea why-in all the years I’ve known them she’s never said one good word about him. (And believe me, she’s said lots of very not-good words.) Why fight so hard to stay married to someone you don’t even like? Why did they get married in the first place? Why are people so crazy?!

I have one client, in her mid-40s but doesn’t look it, cutest, sweetest gal you’ve ever seen. Last time she was in, we were talking about relationships (my clients talk about pets and relationships and that’s about it) and she said, “I can’t see myself ever getting married again. Men are just such jerks.”

Men are jerks. Women are crazy.

…And no matter how old you get, it never gets any better. So good luck.

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One thought on “Happily Ever After, My Ass

  1. Men are jerks; Women are crazy; Children are loud and Old Folks dribble a lot. That’s why Doc and other teddy bears are on this world, to help you poor lot.

    Love and *knuffels* , Doc.

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