Today, I have decided, is the day. I will go downtown, find the courthouse, find a clerk, and start the legal process of divorcing Edgar.

"So you're sad about filing your divorce papers?" asked my roommate, who's been divorced twice.

"I don't know," I replied.

Yeah, I guess I am sad. It's not every day that one places in the public record the fact that one's primary relationship is an abysmal failure. And I guess I'm scared. My health insurance issue remains unresolved, and what if my alcoholic husband goes completely off after getting the news and does... God knows what?

"Remember not to let someone control you with fear," says the Good Doctor. Good advice.

I wonder if there's some protocol for this. When I got married at the courthouse, I had friends and family with me. Today I think I will go alone.

Then, I was careful to wear something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. (Fat lot of good that did, huh?) Today I think it would be smart to wear comfortable shoes.

On my wedding day, my mother carried tissues and used them. I guess I didn't have sense enough to cry then, but today I will bring along something to wipe my eyes and nose with — just in case.

I knew what to do and where to go after my wedding ceremony. Today, the only thing I'm sure of is that what happens afterward mustn't involve alcohol, however tempting the idea might be.

What's the use in setting myself free from a bad marriage to make myself a slave to the drink once more?

For self-protection, I should have a plan. Let's see... I think I'll plan to take my dogs for a good long walk, then have a good long soak. Uplifting, relaxing, and calorie-free!

First, though, I must gather my papers, put on my comfortable shoes, and head downtown. I feel like I'm having an out of body experience, but I also feel sure that I can do this.