Hitting the Jackpot – And Heading to Crazytown

I was rummaging through the bathroom cabinet in the midst of a cleaning frenzy when I found the note. I can’t remember the woman’s name, but there it was, scribbled in biro with her phone number underneath. A gamut of emotions and thoughts rolled quickly through my mind. Feelings raced in circles like a slot machines apples, lemons and oranges, except I’d replaced them with confusion, fear and hurt. They flickered by at a speed that scrambled my mind and when they eventually lined up, I stopped at confusion.

Whose number was this? Was G having an affair? Was it a woman he met while he was traveling? Why was the note here in the bathroom cabinet? Had he quickly had to hide it?

The thoughts took off again, they were moving to quickly, I was beginning to feel ill. I stopped at fear. Was this how we were going to end? Had he fallen out of love? Could/would we get through this? Where would I go if we broke up? Australia, yes, but where? Would I stay with my parents or would it make more sense to move to the city – I’d earn more in the city, they’d be more options for schooling. I considered the price of housing.

I had to sit down. The tiles on the bathroom floor were cold and hard, I could see the soap scum around the bottom of the shower alcove. I suddenly felt like the epitome of the dowdy housewife with my track pants and pony tail, cleaning out the bathroom cupboards while my children played in the background. I thought of the woman with the number, she probably never wore track pants, she would be child free with an extensive wardrobe of size 8 lacy underwear, and a high paying job in the city.

And then I remembered.

We’d been at the pub. They’d been a table of girls nearby and I’d decided our friend Mike needed to meet them. I’d mentioned that G and I had golfed on our honeymoon and one of the girls asked if I wanted a game sometime and scribbled down her number.

G hadn’t picked up any women. I had.

Seventy nine drinks later and I’d completely forgotten.

I laughed that night as I retold the story to G. It was funny, a joke, how stupid of me. “You don’t really think I’d have an affair do you?” G looked hurt, a little bemused by where I’d let myself go in the space of five minutes.

And I didn’t – I didn’t think he’d have an affair.

Until I found the note.

Have you ever done this? Let your mind take you to crazy town?

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Comments

  1. My housemates and I mentally plan our weddings, kids names and nursing homes with every guy we meet in the first 5 mins. We were wondering tonight if they (the guys) do it too?!

  2. Great post, you took us right there with you. I think most of us have ‘been there, done that’ and it isn’t pleasant. That said, I suppose these trips to Crazytown serve their purpose of never taking anyone for granted.

  3. Have I let my mind take me to crazy town? More times than I care to share!!

  4. Never for an affair.

    I have, however, kicked my husband to the kerb over doormats. Real doormats. In front of doors.

    Took a fair bit of talking myself down from that ledge.

  5. CrazyTown is a regular stop for me… I usually go there to get to SaneVille! Thanks for sharing.

  6. Yes. Recently I decided on some very flimsy evidence that my husband was having an affair. Exactly the same as you, I’d re-housed myself and the children and thought of all the reasons why it was the case before asking him what was going on. Nothing’s going on, except in my head occasionally. I’m sorry you went through those 5 minutes, but sort of glad I’m not the only one with an imagination that turns on me sometimes.

  7. This happens to me on a weekly basis but it’s usually when I find “notes” in my teenage son’s bedroom. “Oh my god” I think. “He can’t be that depressed” or “How can I not have known he was going through this”. Then I realise it’s lyrics that’s he’s either copied down or written himself, and I’m able to pull myself together again.

  8. Ditto 🙂
    Tho maybe as Caz said about, glad we’re not the only ones to experience these mad feelings tho you are one very brave woman to be so open about it.
    As an expat I too wondered where the heck do we go if this marriage does fail? I’ve got nothing anymore since it’s his job that carries us around the world. How could I take our daughter away from him? So, you work that much harder to make ‘it’ work and to correct what’s wrong, and ignore what you can’t fix and learn to live with it cos you’ve really no choice.
    So glad in all our situations it was an overactive imagination that took us on a few (long) minutes of angst
    Kinda shows you how much we love our men

  9. Oh yes! Recently my husband was due home around 1am from an overseas business trip. Our five year old had climbed into our bed so I thought he would’ve gone to her bed. Our baby woke around 4am and I went to her peeking a look to see if husband was indeed asleep. I couldn’t see him but the baby was getting most upset so went to her with my thoughts going crazy. “ok so if the plane crashed they would’ve called me by now surely? Maybe I slept through the phone? Or maybe his car crashed on the way home?” I sat there feeding the baby with all these thoughts through my head for a few minutes.

    And then I heard him snore and knew phew! He was home and all was all right!

    Next time I’ll put my glasses on and check before I go into a panic!!

  10. I am a frequent flyer to Crazy Town 😉

  11. I have indeed done this many times. Thinking about it makes me red with embarrassment. But at least I now know I am not alone.

  12. All the friggin time! I think I mostly live in crazy town. The scenarios I can paint in my head in microseconds even astound me!

  13. Oh yes! I’m widowed, so it’a all about daughters – they’ve left home now, but if they were late back in the evening I had played out the whole accident/hospital drama, or the rape/police drama long before their innocent keys clicked in the lock.

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