The Upside to this Waste of Bandwidth

is that I have learned a few things about discretion, relative anonymity and lemons.  Not so much the ex.

@cousinnsluttymcfailpants yeah, what @kid1 said! I wasn’t joking about having a room for rent

— skeweredtesticlesforbreakfast (@manhatingwench) May 15, 2013

Seems innocuous enough except that this room is kid2’s.  Kid2 doesn’t live there.  As punishment, the room went to  boyfriend roommate ex-boyfriend fiancroommate fianceroommate boyfriend roommate (all the same guy), since even when they were engaged, they didn’t enjoy the sleeping part of sleeping together.

Karma:  pretty sure they didn’t enjoy the not sleeping parts either.
Me:  it’s no accident I first typed “wither” instead of “either.”  It took me a year and a half for my mojo to grow back.  Shrinkage doesn’t just happen from coldwater.
George Costanza: I was in the POOL!!!

I understand the temporary economic appeal of a cash infusion.  However, this clashes with the whole “I’m still the kid’s ‘real’ mom” act for the court.  And the whole “I am prevented from seeing my kid by my asshole ex husband” lie.  And the “I want extra parenting time” charade. And “this is your home, when you decide to move back” lie that leads off the “Dad’s house is evil/you’re hurting mom by trying to be happy” fusillade of shit that besieges the kid during those parenting/see kid1 times.

Twitter is the devil, when you use real names, just like here.  I’ve learned that lesson. That’s why this is anonymized. Kid2 claims to be off twitter for now, by choice.  If not,  there is yet another gutpunch lesson waiting.  “I want you back” is a lie. Probably always was, or there would have been more than token resistance in the first place. Money is what is true. Probably always was.

All of this is fiction, of course. Probably always was.

Pass the lemonade.

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