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Tales of an Outsider
Nobody wants to hang out with the person going through a divorce. Feeling like an outsider at work, and the exhausting math of having nothing relatable to share.
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Eeyore Quit Calling Me…
There is nothing less worthy of dedicating my morning commute to than bitching about first world problems. I must have the face of a therapist because I seem to attract people with problems. Which isn’t usually an issue until I get the happy sucked out of my morning commute by an Eeyore who calls me just to complain incessantly about some garbage that really isn’t that much of an issue.
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In search of the thirtysomething mom
I know I cannot be the only thirtysomething mom with children in middle school. Right? I feel like I am hunting for a mythical creature. I can't be the only thirtysomething with kids.