Wanna hear something hilarious? Only it’s really not.

I’m not divorced. No, really, you read that right: I’m not yet divorced.

As my friend said: “This is like the marriage that WILL NOT end!”

The day of the hearing my lawyer did not have the correct permanent parenting plan submitted to the courts. This means that (1) he, again, did not do what he’s been paid to do, especially since that parenting plan was revised for the last time in JANUARY and (2) he would have to get the paperwork submitted to the courts in order for the chancellor to make a judgment regarding my proposed visitation schedule (which is no schedule for visitations). If he grants my request, that means child support would also changed as it’s based on the number of days allotted to each parent for visitation. (Since he doesn’t visit anyway when he’s more than welcome – and even asked and invited – to, why give him certain days and weeks for visitation, thus lowering his financial obligations to the children?)

On June 23 my lawyer told the chancellor and I that he would get the paperwork submitted as soon as possible. The chancellor granted an absolute divorce based on the grounds of inappropriate marital conduct. When my lawyer joined my dad and I in the lobby after his other client was divorced, I asked him flat-out, “I’m divorced, right?”

He stuttered, but said yes. I was divorced. And I was thrilled.

Wednesday morning I had a meeting in the court complex, as I do every week, and decided to stop by and ask the chancery court clerk if any decision had been made. And one hasn’t. That paperwork that was supposed to be submitted ASAP? Has not been submitted.

I jokingly asked, “So I guess I’m really not divorced then, right?” Ha ha. “If I wanted to get married today, I couldn’t?!”

“Nope, you’re not.” She launches into legal explanations and I hear something about a final decree and why there was none. Basically: my lawyer is a douche bag (see definition 5). (Sorry for the language Grannie, but that’s putting it nicely. I have more colorful words, but I’ll keep those to myself.)

I really think there is some sort of conspiracy involving my lawyer, my husband (oh my hell, I hate saying that again) and … well, the entire world. It’s like in the movies – I just cannot kill this marriage and bury it, it keeps coming back from the end, taunting me. “Ha ha! You aren’t divorced!”

It’s really frustrating. I didn’t know that vowing to love him ’til death do we part’ was going to be taken so seriously. (I mean, really, vows are actually taken seriously these days?)

And I haven’t told him yet. That he’s still my husband. And I’m still his wife.

Maybe by the time our sixth anniversary rolls around next May we’ll have resolved this. Because the only other thing I can think of is getting back together with him. Why not? He got the seven-year itch at year one … it should be smooth sailing from here on out, right?

Hanson told me last week that my life is like a soap opera. I’m beginning to think he’s right.

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