I don't know why I answer the phone when the caller ID says "Unknown Name". Maybe I'm a masochist. Maybe I'm just curious like a cat, and I simply can't help myself. But here's one of the super fun things about getting divorced:
You no longer are responsible for your ex-husband's heaping, endless mountains of debt.
So. You're sitting on the couch, staring at the wall, wiping smeared tears from your eyes because you've just gone through the whole first-day-of-kindergarten thing all over again (long story short, she got into an even awesomer school, so you quick-like yanked her from the first awesome school, knowing the upheaval would have temporary repercussions, but that it would be totally worth it). Oh, also you really have no idea how you're going to get her to school every day and arrive at work on time, and you really can't be late for work, and you feel like you don't have a friend in the world, and the weight of responsibility on your bony shoulders is bearing down like a ton of motherfucking bricks.
Then, the day brightens.
Telephone: Hello, is Mr. Shawn _____ there?
Kristin, Um, who's calling?
Kristin: Hello, Nikki. Nikki from where?
Nikki: (pause). From Houston.
Kristin: Um, no, Nikki. I meant, what company are you with?
Nikki: Red Line.
Kristin: Okay. Is that a collection agency?
Nikki: Is Mr. Shawn there?
Kristin: No. Mr. Shawn is no longer residing here. You can reach him at xxx-xxx-xxxx.
Nikki: (Recites back an entirely wrong number)...is that correct?
Kristin: No. X....X....X.....X.....X....X......
Nkki: Got it.
Nikki: Yes. Thank you so much for your help.
Kristin: No, Nikki. Thank you.
16 hours ago