I got back home from work three hours early from my job as a diesel mechanic. The whole shop has been putting in 50 hour weeks for the past 2 months. We have a contract with a tight schedule to rebuild over 50 B-Series Cummins diesel engines. Today, we found out that we were officially ahead of our schedule by 2 days. We're pretty worn out and out and the bosses knew that we're worn out. Heading home, I knew I was filthy, my normal filthy. Tricia is normally waiting for me with a robe so I can go directly to the shower. She doesn't get home for another 2 hours so I'm going directly to the laundry room. There I'll drop my dirty clothing in my special basket and then head naked to the bathroom to take a shower.
Rebuilding diesel engines, I'm around many chemicals at work, but so far it hasn't damaged my sense of smell, yet. I know I stink from sweating and I stink of chemicals and exhaust too.
The laundry room is small, hell the whole house is small. It's 1100 square feet with two bedrooms, a two and a half car garage on a large lot near the highway here in Overland Park Kansas. Don't give me any shit about the school board. I don't want to hear it. I didn't vote for those assholes either so just shut your god damn face about that shit.
We got this repo from the bank for less than $50 grand. The previous owners had literally trashed the place, but I knew that the bones were solid. We ended up gutting one room at a time -only after we got a fully functioning bathroom and a barely functioning kitchen working. Those first 6 months were brutal.
Taking off my shirt, I smell something not right. At the pile of dirty clothes at my feet, I smelled sex. I knew Tricia's smell, but there was more, and it was strong. I knew that could not be me. Her time-of-the-month started two nights ago. She never wanted any lovemaking during that time so I'd always stayed away. Picking up her clothing, I saw and smelled dried cum and smelled cigarette smoke on her blouse and jeans. She doesn't smoke. Eric, the asshole 'wanna-be' wrench who rents our garage does. In his spare time, Eric takes rice buckets and turns them into low end street racers on the cheap. Looks like cars weren't the only thing he was working on.
Zero tolerance. When you trust somebody, you don't ask probing questions, you don't look beyond what they say. I have zero tolerance for this shit. I didn't take this shit from my first wife and as my name is Glen, I don't with my current wife.
I thought that since we were both burned in our first marriages, we would never think of fucking anyone else, not physically, not emotionally. I thought that our lives were pretty much open and supportive of each other. I guess that I was wrong. It's deja vu all over again.
Recovering from being burned is how we stated our relationship. Recovering from being burned again is how I'll walk out of it. I got pretty good planning the rehab of this fixer-upper. Those planning skills will help me end this sham marriage too.
Then it hit me. Sonofabitch. Gotta get calm. Sitting quietly on the washer, I exhale slowly. Repeat. Repeat another 20 more times. Get calm. Do that mindfulness shit. Take your god damn sweet time Glen. You are all you've got. Twenty minutes of stopping my life lets me think without the dread.
I now have two goals. The first is to prove without any doubt that she is stepping out. The second is to legally end this marriage with the minimum of financial loss.
Well, I think I got three goals. Third goal is to move on with my life as quick as possible.
The easiest one to do first is ending the marriage. Yea, right, in my ever loving fucking dreams. I can just snap my fingers and it'll be over. Just like last time.
When in doubt, ask Wiki. It's not always totally correct but it's great for an overview. I Google search "Wiki how to divorce in Kansas." I may not know much about computers, but I can do easy searches.
Holy shit. With no kids, it's only three documents and if the judge agrees and in a minimum of 60 days. The first is the Civil Cover Sheet. It's about who we are, it's our information. It's the same as info we use to file taxes. Next is the Domestic Relations Affidavit. That's all our assets, income, liquid assets, expenses, personal property, real estate and debts. Last is the Petition for Divorce. That lists out who gets what, what we agreed on. The Judge gets to make the final decision and it can all turn south on his say. Dividing up the what we own and owe does not have to be equal in the eyes of the law.
Digging in our office desk, I grab last year's tax returns, our 401K files, our banking and loan statements. Since we were both broke after our last divorces, we made it a point to not get into debt. We spent only what we really needed to. Without a mortgage, all out 'rent' money went for rehabbing the house, buying supplies and basic living. We both knew that a down turn in the economy could bankrupt us again and I don't trust those fuckers at the top of the money chain. In the 5 years we've known each other and 3 years married and buying this house, we were able to rebuild out finances. We were finally getting ahead in life.
Now at 29, I'm a two time loser.
We own $4,400 on her car and $4,700 on my used truck. Both vehicles aren't worth a shit. We bought them 2 years ago and they're now both 7 years old. Our credit was still shit from the grind of our last divorces and our car loans are at 15%. I'm sure they aren't worth what we owe. She makes a little more money than I do and she came into the marriage with slightly less debt.
We both have been able to put away $12,000 a year for the past 4 years in our 401Ks, if you include the matching. The market boomed and she's got a balance of $65K and I've got $60K. We have an Emergency fund of $8,000 and $1,200 in checking. The checking account is only that high because some big bills are due soon.
Laws being what they are, I know that I could still get screwed. How should I approach this division of our stuff? What are my most important goals? End marriage quick. Don't lose shirt. No, not like last time when I also lost my soul too. Fuck it, another god damn merry-go-round. No, not a merry-go-round. What's that old Johnny Cash song line "I've been flushed from the bathroom of your heart."
The angel on my left shoulder says 'OK Glen. Be honest. Be open and be non-confrontational.' The devil on my right shoulder says 'If she fights it and cops an attitude, fuck her. Let her know in no uncertain terms that you'll do scorched earth on her. You're not going to be the only one to lose. Make her feel that pain again.'
It's really shit having to go through this again.
But now I've got another goal to meet. How do I prove that she's stepping out? Nanny cams, internet cameras and all that tech shit overwhelms me. I'm sure they can be rented and I could find somebody to set it up for me. I'm good with engines, I'm shit with setting up software and hardware.
Walking aimlessly through what will soon not be 'our' little two bedroom house, I realize something. The thing is I've never seen anything that leads me to believe that she was doing the dirty deed in our bed. Tricia's car's backseat is doable, but damn small. The 'wanna-be wrench' has those little rice burners. Not much room in there either. The only other place that has some privacy and is free is the garage, the 'office' in the garage. There's an old futon that would work. She has an hour for lunch and the 'wanna-be wrench' works at his day job nearby.
