Last night was another segment of the WW3 arguments we have had over the years, husband and I. 40 years. Except this one was different. Oh, not in the way it was fueled: anger, sexual frustration, contempt, and lots of alcohol. Booze fueled fights seldom lead anywhere; just a dull circle where one or both parties are just verbally spewing all the blackness of late. My ‘of late’ goes back 3 years when my man retired. Why’d he retire at 57? Cuz I let him. As I lost my family, I found much  money I never knew, wait: my DAD didn’t even know, existed. Or my sweet grandma. There was deceit and dishonesty running in my side of the family so outsiders wouldn’t know what to look for. Each one who amassed the funds: my Mother and grandma, they never shared what they had. Only on paper. When Mother died, Dad found he had almost a million dollars in assets; my grandma? She thought it was $165,000.00 but it had grown to $495K while she was so busy counting her beans in these little spiral notebooks. Oh, the sadness of it all. Money means nothing if you’ve lost someone you truly Love. I miss them both. Yes even the Dad.

My man retired because I had so much money all at once; he detested his stress-loaded job of 17 years with a passion, and through a lot of bends in a short road I began to buy property. And then fix and sell. I made money hand over fist which put us in the 2Mil investments on hand category. We are looking set. I feel great! Our house, cars, health insurance, living expenses, yada yada yada all taken care of from the rental investments.

For some reason, we’re still not happy. Oh, you out there with a chronic pain issue and are married or in a relationship, YOU know. The only thing he really b*tches about. But constantly. Add the booze, wow it’s ugly and scary…