I used to think that every memory I had about my childhood was “the truth”. For a long time after I reached adulthood I believed that my perception told the story of my family. It did, but the story it told was only my own. It took me a long time to understand how perception is completely different for each person so no two people in any family will remember things the same way. As a parent myself hearing some of the things my own kids believe happened in their childhood, I also realize that children can’t possibly know what’s really going on with their parents, and that helped me see my own parents in a different light. I was just a child so I only remembered my child’s view of life, which was obviously missing so much context that would explain a lot. So now I see my parents more as the complex human beings that they were rather than just the people who created me and provided my reality as a kid. It’s helped me forgive them for the mistakes they made, and it’s replaced some of the anger and resentment I carried with humility as I accept my own humanity too.

Being around my good, long time friends with toddlers is exhausting. They try to arrange hangouts centred around having all of the kids together but I’d rather just be their friend.

Or in his case, it was a jar of keys. Same thing I guess, because I can only imagine how many women gave him their heart along with their key. Artifacts, I called them. The saddest thing is that he really didn’t clue in that it wouldn’t always be that easy to keep collecting either. He claims to be happy, but I can see right through him as usual and he’s got a bewildered and mildly desperate look in his eyes now. I used to hope that my love would be enough to break the pattern, but now I know that with some people, nothing is ever going to be enough. They’re addicted to looking for something better right around the corner and they’ve always got one foot out the door. Just like I learned to live half a life when I was with him, I’ve finally learned to live my whole life without him. “Who do you think you are, running ‘round leaving scars?”

And I don't regret a single one.

Someone I used to work with started a Go Fund Me for her cat. She earns good money and just bought an apartment with her fiancé. Shit. I live in a basement suite! I'd love a cat. Go Fund Me would be a last resort for me though. Already at 1 / 10 of the goal though. It's impossible to keep up with the Jones and Joneses'. It's hard to keep feeling optimistic and happy about life when cats get more attention than you do.

I’ve run out of patience and just don’t care anymore. Honest to God, I’m too old change. So people shouldn’t bother trying to coax me or complain to me because everything they say will go through one ear and out the other. I just have no patience anymore. I really do not care. That’s it.

A co-worker told me horrible news before the weekend. There was an accident where her sister works and scalding hot cooking oil was spilled all over her, sending her to the hospital with 3rd degree burns. She gave me an elaborate story about how her sister was a supervisor at A&W when a car crashed into the drive-through spilling the oil on her. She said it happened on April 3rd. My co-worker was finishing her shift and was leaving so I wasn't able to give her much in the way of condolences before she was gone for the day. I decided to see if this horrible occurrence made the news, I checked the internet for stories about cars crashing into a drive-through at an A&W and saw the incident did happen in North Van, on March 16th. I thought it was a bit odd she would get the date of such a traumatic event that wrong. After the weekend, when I saw her again, I asked how her sister was doing. she gave me this blank stare and told me "she's at work". I mentioned the news she gave me on Friday and she laughed and said, "Oh, that was my sister's niece". I told her, on Friday, she specifically said it was her sister. She reiterated with "no, it was my sister's niece". Then she went on with her job. To lie about something like that is odd to be sure, but this woman is a very strict evangelical christian, she goes to church three days a week and got on my case once when I admitted that I like to have a glass of wine at the end of the day to wind down. Lots of tut-tutting about the evils of alcohol. Surly using someone's tragedy for attention would be frowned on at her church? I don't trust my co-worker anymore, I don't even know if the person involved is actually her sister's niece either. I didn't push the issue. I'm an atheist, I have heard her talk about the fates in store for non-believers in the afterlife. I guess her sins will be forgiven and mine won't be? This sort of thing just cements by belief.

She discovered her last Tinder guy was still with his wife. I had just been through a fresh breakup so we cuddled for a night. I shouldered her troubles and supported her emotionally for a few months until she disappeared with the next Tinder guy without a trace.

I didn’t catch up on the eclipse today. Didn’t even notice anything happening outside. For some reason, it just doesn’t do it for me. None of these things capture my interest or make me want to orgasm.

The other day, I had my other selves in parallel universes gaze into my own and it was humbling, I'm not gonna lie. One of me was married and happy - a good person - while the other was also single but wildly successful. And he was absolutely FURIOUS that I was not. That I was still living with my parents. WTF?!? He's both ruthless and unforgiving. Scary. But I took solace knowing that God has positioned me where I am for good reason.