Courting Disaster

Throughout the next hours the beat goes on.

My maniacal ex-friend continues to send hateful texts - though in her haze of anger, she becomes wildly entertaining. It is clear that she is spitting mad. And has taken on Pee Wee Herman-type speech patterns. I know you are, but what am I? 

And at times, she adopts a Snoop Dog persona. I know of no other grown, educated adult that speaks like that, much less commits it to writing. Please. Have some pride!

I have begun to pack a bag. I am prepared for anything. Craig is unsure of the plans. They could be LBD and heels plans or jeans and drinking shoes plans. I will pack for both.

The next morning, as planned, I go to the county courthouse.

I have decided to take advantage of the notice I recieved from Family Court reminding me that I reserve the right to have my child support arrangement reviewed by a judge every three years. And this year is that year. Our expenses have changed. My income has changed, I presume Lars' has too. And he has the lovely live-in Liza and her business income to add to his household coffers.  I would think I should get some reduction in what I owe him every month ("owe" being used in a very loosely defined manner for this purpose!)

I take the kids to school and head to the courthouse. I go through the metal detector. I smile at everyone and am exceedingly complimentary and cordial to everyone I meet. I want the Child Support Fairies to sprinkle little twinkling chards of good fortune (emphasis on "fortune") on me.

I fill out my complaint form. It doesn't seem like a complaint. The time to complain was when I was before the first judge. 

Everyone I encounter mixes up whether I am the plaintiff or the defendant. It must be a rare case to see a woman come in to have what she pays reduced. I am sure it is more often a woman asking to be paid more.  It makes me angry to think what a taker Lars has been.

I turn in my forms and go and pay my $10 filing fee on another floor through a plate glass divider to a woman named Margie with little inky rubber thumbs on. I ride the rickety elevator back down to the ladies I originally met with. They smile when they see me come back.

Soon enough I am called back to meet with Lawanna. She is the exact same Lawanna I met with a few years ago when I asked to get my payment temporarily reduced when I was furloughed at work for a time. She is sitting in the same exact desk with the same exact art work on her filing cabinets.  I remember her, but I am sure I am one of a cast of thousands to her.

She takes me through the process and begins to explain the steps. She completes some forms and copies them. One for me and one for her and a third off to the side. She gives me a court date and I momentarily break into a sweat. She tells me she will send the third copy of what she's given to me to Lars.

Uh-oh.

"When will he get it?" I ask.

"You're here early. The early mail will be delivered tomorrow. He'll have it his mail tomorrow."

I make a face.  Lawanna asks what's wrong.

I tell her that if Lars gets it tomorrow, the weekend will be Hell. I can just see him backing out of his commitment and me standing Craig up at the last minute. I begin to think that I should call Charlotte.

She says that she could hold it for the late mail. He'd get it Monday. Would that be better?

Oh yes, much. I could pratically kiss her. 

I walk out the door with my envelope after wishing Lawanna and the other ladies a lovely weekend.

I get to my car and I realize I am shaking.