In the garden


Active member
So, cute supermarket guy messaged me telling me that he'd asked to not do overtime in Wednesday and Thursday so we could go out in a traditional "after work" timeframe, and which day did I prefer. I messaged back thank you, and that Thursday was better for me (I went back to yoga on Wednesday night). He replied he'd get back to me with a plan.

That was the last I heard from him.

In other news, so... I'm adopted. I actually board with my birth mother in worktown. I was cleaning up the garage on Saturday, mostly disposing of empty cardboard boxes, of which there were an awful lot. But I also found old family albums in a cupboard. I'm not not allowed to poke around, it's my family after all, so I enjoyed albums of my birth mother and aunts in all their teenage 70s glory. As well as some lovely pages of my grandma, grandpa and oma.

Then, I found me. The album of my childhood starting when I was born. This family holding me...and my full birth name. I always knew the first and last, but I didn't know that I had a middle name. So at 42 years old, I learned something brand new about my first days.

I tried to power through the tidying up but after a while felt so ill I put out an SOS to Puck. He was able to take my call and I cried on him. I'm not grieving that identity, I was just shocked. I told Adam a little later in the day, and Mike because he popped up on WhatsApp just after I'd spoken to Puck. Today, I'm okay, I'm still reciting my full original name to myself and I'm even considering deed poll to add it in to my legal name, along with my original surname. My initials would be RPJMCFvL. The M is the newest bit. The C I've known about, but isn't officially in my name right now. But if I'm adding the M, I'd add the C, too.
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