If I Die Before I Wake

Ignorance is bliss.

When we were married, it never ceased to amaze me that he could exist in his own little world without ever stepping foot off this planet. He'd always been a dreamer. I gave him credit for that -- in most cases. It was almost childlike and I initially appreciated his innocence.

But like they say -- the qualities you sometimes fall in love with ultimately can become the same things you loathe. Such was the case with J-Fed and his Don Quixote mentality.

I'd forgotten how much time J-Fed actually spent chasing windmills until this past Friday. I was preparing to go out of town with Mr. Ex. It was one of the first real adult vacations I had had in years. Strike that. It was the first real adult vacations I had, except for a one-off where J-Fed and I traveled to the Bahamas for a few days and nearly killed each other.

Anyhow, J-Fed called me on Friday morning to give me the proper send off.

"Hey Kiki. Did you leave yet?" he asked.

"No, I'm leaving in a couple of hours," I said.

"Where are you going?" he inquired curiously.

"Why? Does it matter? I'm going to the west coast," I told him.

"With Mr. Ex?" he asked.

No J-Fed. I'm going with the glee club and we're going to make a joyful noise for the next three days.

"Yes," I told him.

J-Fed got quiet for a minute before wishing me the best.

"I hope it rains," he mumbled before breaking out into a hysterical laughter.

I laughed too. Do you know why? Because even if it rained it wouldn't matter. The recreational activities that we had planned wouldn't be affected come rain, sleet or snow. 

I smirked and appreciated the humor in his joke. Since he was no longer giving me much flack about Mr. Ex, his meager attempt to be funny didn't bother me. I don't remember how the conversation took a turn, but it quickly became apparent the Fedster's wheels were spinning.