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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Well, fuck.

I'm absolutely drowning at work at the moment, and it's going to get worse before it gets better.

I have another year here, but this time next year I'm definitely job hunting. I want to move home.

Adam visited last weekend and it was perfect. We had sex like we haven't in years, and then we talked, and talked and drank and talked and ate and talked and absolutely none of it was about mundane shit or house buying shit or day to day shit. We were truly happy for a day. He stayed until after brunch the next day and even though we had to do house buying shit that morning, we were both chilled out about it and got it done with no stress. I was supposed to go to work the next day but I collapsed in an exhausted heap. It was so relaxing having the house to myself (housemate away all weekend) so I simply lay in bed all afternoon dozing and calm. I even emailed my bff, something I had been putting off for weeks because I feel like such a failure right now and I wasn't brave enough to put that in an email, until Sunday. (In response she listed all the things she's failed at this year and suggested we start to make plans for that long overdue girls' weekend we had to cancel in March.)

And so, it's quarter to 7 in the evening and I'm back at work for a couple of hours. Same yesterday, same tomorrow. I'm truly not paid enough for this, which is one of the first times I've thought that.

I've been texting with a guy in hometown and he's a real gentleman. Sounds like he could be able to travel to visit once a month or so, too.

I'm talking with Puck almost every day, although I won't see him this weekend as he's celebrating another anniversary. But I'll plan to write him a nice long email on Sunday.

Right, time to go tutor.