Dear Readers: I know, I know: I’ve given up on the blog. I’m extremely busy right now doing other things, but I thought I’d bring you all a little cheer with my response to another bar complaint from an unhappy…
I am deeply appreciative of your support of the Anatomy of a Disaster Series.
Not only is this the most popular and widely-commented upon work I’ve done so far, it has convinced me that this particular style of writing is something I should do more of: the narrative true story with a personal touch and a healthy dose of laughter too.
Today I continue telling Sarah’s story.
If you have not read the first three installments in this series, please do so before you continue. I’ll give you handy-dandy links because I am a very giving person!
UPDATE (March 17):
You will see when you read the comments below I believed Samantha was behind some of them. She insists she is not, and has filed a bar complaint against me that includes my assumption. I would like to state unequivocally I do not know the identity of the commenter and I may very well have been mistaken when I assumed it was Samantha. My apologies if I was wrong.
Before I continue with this story, I’d like to get something on the record.
Welcome to my first blog series,
“Anatomy of a Disaster.”
This series will examine the horrors of the Divorce Industrial Complex as illustrated through one “perfect storm” case. I will be posting new series segments intermittently while continuing my advice blog and random musings.
Of course, we can’t talk about the Morris divorce until we talk about the Morris marriage.
These first blogs will serve as the emotional story background for later works that will delve into the mechanics of one of the worst divorces I’ve studied – and considering how many I’ve looked into that is really saying something.
Sarah Morris sits on my living room couch, tucks her feet under her, and sighs as I pour her a drink.
She’s earned this drink, so I give her a country club pour.