Lululemon, Korean BBQ, and panic attacks.

So, yeah. This week has been a rollercoaster. I really want to just… write out how my Tuesday happened, but I think it’s important that I set it up with Monday as well.

Monday: As I wrote about a few hours ago, I had a “date” with my separated wife at a bar close to both places where we work. We agreed that this would be a healthy thing to do at therapy. But it was weird. I was so nervous that I ordered a cocktail before she even showed up, and I downed it.* My goal with this date wasn’t to try and talk her into coming back, or anything like that… it was just to catch up with her, and hopefully have a good time.

*I don’t usually drink. Like at all. But going through this has sort of given me some alcoholic tendencies.

Instead, she showed up, and told me how tired she was because she stayed up all weekend due to taking LSD. Then she went on to tell me that we’re basically done, and that meeting with me was a waste of time, unless I wanted to hear her about her drug adventures. It escalated until I basically ran into this exchange…

Me: Look, all I’m saying is that we’ve been separated two weeks. It is way too early to be talking about just ending everything.

Her: Are you saying I’m being impulsive? This conversation is over!

So, yeah. That went well.

Tuesday: I went to work as usual, but the pragmatic part of me was already preparing for the worst. If we get divorced, I thought, I’d better start thinking about how to live on my own again. I’ve lived alone plenty of times in my life, of course. But my salary has only gone up by about 10k since I started working at Georgia Tech, and Atlanta has gotten considerably more expensive to live in. It doubly sucks because one of my good buddies literally just downsized to single bedroom from a double bedroom he kept to himself.

Sure enough, I look around on apartments.com, and all the good places take up an uncomfortable percentage of my monthly income. There was a good reason we bought a house together.

Then it just hits me, out of nowhere. My breaths get shorter, my heartrate goes up so high I can hear it beating in my ears, and I get dizzy, even sitting down. Rational thoughts just fade away, and I start freaking out. How am I going to live? I’ve completely screwed myself over. I’ve got to find a higher paying job, STAT.* It hits me: I’m basically having a panic attack. But sometimes it doesn’t matter if you know it’s happening, and what it is. It’s like getting attacked by a bear. Great! You know what the problem is. Too bad there’s nothing you can do about it until it sniffs you, loses interest, and moves on.

*The good news is that, now that I’m looking and looking out for myself, I’ve already gotten calls from Delta Airlines and UPS for comms expert positions. Both pay 33-50% more than what I make now. Just gotta land one of them. It’s a numbers game.

Usually I’d just deal with this by going home and distracting myself, but I couldn’t do that today. No, Joanna, a mutual friend of my wife and I, just got A) a correct diagnosis of her health issues, so there’s finally light at the end of the tunnel for her B) a new car, and C) a new job, so we and a bunch of our other friends were headed to korean bbq to celebrate. If you eat meat, enjoy it, but haven’t had KBBQ, I won’t judge you, but you’re doing your life the wrong way.

But the fact remains that, hours after having the first panic attack in my entire life, I would have to see my estranged wife again. The same one who has found ways to be meaner to me every time I’ve seen her lately. The day was just getting tougher and tougher. But I know I can’t just skip out on this social engagement, for a variety of reasons.

So I go home, and armor up in the best way I know how: by looking great.  Dark purple metallic t-shirt, black jeans, black chelsea boots, black leather jacket. I look like a rock star. Just knowing I look good helps me in all aspects of life.

So I head to the mall where the KBBQ is located. Thinking I’d kill two birds with one stone, I bring a pair of my worn out workout shorts with me. They’re lululemon brand. If you’re serious about the gym, you owe it to yourself to give their stuff a try, expensive as it is. It fits great, looks great, and… pertinent to this part of my story… if they get damaged, get a hole, etc, they will FIX IT FREE OF CHARGE.

I go in, and I walk up to the manager with my pair of old worn out shorts. They’ve had a hole worn through the thigh from countless Crossfit WODs.

The manager herself looks like a classic person who works at lulu: in good shape, nose ring, beanie, multi-colored hair. I show her my shorts, and explain what’s going on.

Her: Oh… well, let me ask you a question. What do you want to do about this?

Me: Um… get them fixed?

Long story short, she ends up keeping my shorts, and giving me a free pair of new ones to replace them.  These shorts sell for $68, and never ever go on sale. Once I realized what she was doing, I’m not going to lie. I had to fight myself to keep from crying. Even someone I didn’t know, doing me a kindness that they didn’t have to do… it felt like someone handed me a flashlight in a dark cave.

I didn’t cry, though. That would’ve been really embarrassing, because it’s 2:1 odds that she was flirting with me. I’ve been off the market for 7 years, but it felt obvious, even to me. She told me her full name, kept talking to me about her life, and then… this…

Me: You have no idea how much I needed something good to happen to me. I’ve had a really rough couple of weeks.

Her: Well, I definitely wouldn’t mind sitting down somewhere and listening to you tell me about it. 

If I wasn’t trying to keep my life together, I would’ve asked her out to drinks or coffee. But it’s not exactly attractive to tell another woman about the problems you’re having with your estranged wife. Even I, the “awkward” husband, know that. I thank her profusely, and leave before I embarrass myself.

On the way back to my truck, I stop in Urban Outfitters, because I enjoy looking at hipster T-shirts. While I’m in there, this cute college aged girl working there greets me, and gives me the most obvious up and down I’ve ever seen. I give her a smile and a thanks, and move on.

Let me be clear: I want nothing more than to fix things with my wife, for a variety of reasons. Even if it doesn’t work out, I will be light years away from wanting to date again. But it sure felt damn good to be noticed.

My confidence is slowing regrowing. But then it’s show time: on to KBBQ, and an inevitable showdown with my wife. I come in with Joanna’s boyfriend, and we wait for everyone to show up. My wife and our tenant are already there at the bar having drinks. I notice her get up and give everyone a hug. Everyone except for me. Fine, I think. Let’s keep up this high school level BS. 

When Joanna finally arrives, she gives me a hug first. Bless her. When this all broke, she made it clear to my wife that she thought she was crazy for wanting to leave me. We go to the party room, and everyone sits down. Eventually there’s so many people that come that we have to split into two tables. Naturally, my wife, our tenant, and one of our mutual friends who favors her goes to the other table, along with some acquaintances of Joanna’s that I don’t know well.

But everyone else… stayed with me. Including Joanna, the whole reason anyone was there. Even though her boyfriend moved to the other table. We had a great, lively conversation about her car and her job, and about a local pro-wrestling show we’re going to together in December. I even persuaded our server into bringing her some free cake for the special occasion. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but it felt like lines were being drawn on people stood on the topic of my wife and I. At this point, they all knew.

Once the meal is over, and the checks are paid, I notice my wife getting up with everyone else. Every time I’ve talked to her online, she’s been empathetic, raw, and reasonable. Every time I’ve seen her in person, she’s progressively turned into more and more of a jerk. I realize that if this trend continues, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to handle it, after the day that I’ve had.

It’s not like I’d lash out, hit her, or freak out or anything like that. But I’m already suffering massively inside. If my mind and emotions were visible, I’d look like war vet. I don’t want to drive home crying.

So I make a prudent decision… I’m going to get out of there, and avoid her at all costs. I walk by her in the hallway, toward the exit. I start heading down the stairs, and then I hear her voice. Calling my name.

Josh? 

Yes?

Are you leaving?

Yeah.

She hurries to catch up with me, and keeps pace with me. She makes small talk about how she ate too much, and what she had for lunch. I tell her that she knew she was coming to KBBQ, so I’m not sure mac and cheese sandwiches for lunch were the best idea. I walk faster. She’s confused.

Why are you walking so fast?

To get the door for you, I say, because I was doing just that. I hold the door for her and our tenant, who is just behind us. When we’re outside, I ask where they parked. They parked elsewhere, of course, so I politely say bye. Then my wife steps forward and gives me the most awkward hug of our lives, and we part.

I walk in the other direction, suddenly wondering why she was so desperate for my attention. I have theories, of course. But this entry is already really long.

But yes, it was definitely one of the weirdest days of my life.