Day 90 – Notice to Quit

I woke up this morning and I didn’t want to get out of bed.

I stayed in that darkness until I was forced to get up, wash and dress for the Ocado delivery. I guess it’s a good thing that I am still vain enough to want to wash and dress before opening the door to the grocery delivery driver.

The sun is shining and the birds are singing. I want to shut off the sound of the bloody chirpy birds. For someone who has several nature and birds songs recordings, this is bad. This is very bad.

I am down. I am very down.

I don’t know how long this is supposed to take before it gets better.

I don’t know how I am supposed to get on with the rest of my life, however long that life might be.

I don’t know how I am supposed to forget all plans, all thoughts, all memories, all hopes for a future that is not to be, when I am surrounded by countless reminders of the emptiness that I feel.

I don’t know how I am supposed to get over the fact that someone I trusted implicitly with my life and all that is/was in it, could just bail so very easily, when I had stayed steadfast to him in 14 years through all sorts of challenges countless others would have long bailed.

I don’t know how someone could commit three months notice to his job but couldn’t even give me two days when he had agreed marriage counselling for the umpteenth time and had promised to give it at least four weeks, time I said he should also use answering the countless questions that I had about household things he handled. After making that promise on a Saturday 11th April, we would have a lovely Sunday, great lunch near the sea and walking on the beach holding hands. On Monday, 13th April, he would choose to leave his marital home to “think”. He would come back Tuesday 14th declaring undying love. He would spend that Monday night, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights with his married mistress whilst pretending to be working on our marriage and giving us both some space.

No handover. No notice to quit. Instead, he bails. He just bails. To “start afresh” and “forge a new path.” No discussions. Door closed. Emotions shut off. Nothing. Nothingness. Nada.

His nine year job would get three months’ notice to quit, three months of careful handover, three months of detailed notes, three months of making sure that whoever takes over is thoroughly briefed for a smooth transition.

His 11 years marriage and 14 years relationship, doesn’t even get two days handover.

Nothing. Nothingness. Nada.

Rationally, I know that I can’t feel this shit and devastated forever. Emotionally, I don’t know that I am strong enough to cope until it starts to get better.


This morning, I had a brief thought that some roast lamb and sweet potatoes, my weekend treat in my pre-Cambridge days, might cheer my life up. I thought taking myself to Mayfair, to my favourite restaurant Hakkasan Mayfair, to enjoy some dim sum and gorgeous food, might be just what I need to perk me up.

But I won’t do either of those things.

I’m no longer that girl that relies on food to cheer herself up.

A little movement on the scales this morning, but nothing earth-shattering. I will give Step 2 until Monday before deciding whether to increase my calorific intake from 810 to 1000 on Step 3.

2 thoughts on “Day 90 – Notice to Quit

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s