Friday

Here I am again.  It's my mother's birthday.  I am crying again.   I can't do my work, I keep crying.  

I feel so lonely.    He must have given his friends a real sob story for them all to ignore my emails.

He just packed up his stuff in the rain and left.   He even took the anciently old microwave.   It was worth about $5.   He didn't even take anything like that when he left his prior wife's house, not one dish.

But he took the microwave that the kids and I had been using, after all of us (including him) had the benefit of two brand new ones which blew up.

I ramble on.   The microwave doesn't matter.