D-Day

So this is it. D-day. Also known as “the day I sign the final divorce papers.” Good-bye, Kelly Osborne. Welcome back, Kelly Morgan (and don’t even get me started on what a pain in the ass it’s going to be to change my SSN, driver’s license, checking accounts, business cards and umpty-zillion other things back to my maiden name…and yet, still worth it to sever that last tie!)

I find myself strangely calm about it this morning. Okay, so last night I was bawling my eyes out at the gas station while filling up the tank on my car – thus causing the poor lady in the car across from me to give me the “are you okay” look and hand signal and to report about me to the person she was jabbering with on her cell phone. I don’t mourn th loss of him (good riddance to bad rubbish!) but I do mourn the breaking of the vows that I took so seriously and the destruction of something that was supposed to last a lifetime.

And yeah, okay, so last night my dreams were kind of on the nightmare side – something about worms with pincer jaws stuck to my skin and no matter how many of them I knocked off, more kept appearing til I realized they were coming from UNDER my skin. Sometimes it’s just a party to be me I tell ya! On the other hand, I save myself a FORTUNE in illegal hallucinogen costs because hey, I can have a bad trip any time I want courtesy of my own twisted imagination. Lovely.

But this morning, I’m calm. Or numb? Anyway, the most burning question in my head when I woke up (having finally gotten back to sleep after the fun of the worm dream) was “what does one wear to the dissolution of one’s marriage?” Sweats and a scrunchie for the “poor, pathetic me” look? Stripper heels and a party hat for that “ding dong the asshat is dead” vibe?

Decisions, decisions.

Initially, I was going to wear my new red sweater and go for that “Nancy Reagan I’m powerful and don’t mess with me” impression, but then I realized that I might end up having bad associations with whatever I wear today and I didn’t want to waste my new red sweater that way. I figured better to go with something that I love so much (and look so good in) that it will always overpower any potential bad memories. So, I chose my black pencil skirt, black and tan cheetah print sweater and knee-high black stiletto boots. The ensemble projects my chosen message of “beautiful but deadly” quite nicely.

Oh, and for that touch of power red? Let’s just say it’s present, but hidden. Thanks, Victoria’s Secret.

So, bring it on. Today is the last day of an old life. Tomorrow, I start a new one and I intend to do it with strength, grace, style…and sexy underwear.

KJ