‘I hope that life without a chaperone is what you thought it’d be’
I changed my real name on the socials.
It’s something telemarketers call me.
Though I’ve been known to use variants of my name on mailing lists, to see which fuckers sold my name. Looking at you, the entirety of the financial publishing world.
Anyway, since I “transitioned” online, almost all interactions with me have ceased.
Couple people even wrote and said they were about to defriend me because they are wary of strangers/potential tRumpers.
It’s just funny. I went from Mom knowing my whereabouts and thoughts 24/7 … to the interwebs having a good idea about both, a few times a week … to now literally living in a bubble.
Sometimes I think, well at least I have my cats.
Other times, like when I drove my ass to and from Lake Buena Vista a couple times between Christmas and New Year’s, I think, even that’s too damn much of a commitment.
Especially after the last trip when I bought litter on the way home and had to drag that and my suitcase up five floors.
I loved my last sitter but I have a sneaking suspicion she didn’t come each of the 10 days I hired her for.
I mean, who would want to run up these steps 10x in a row?
Lord, on top of that, the fire alarm went off for three hours yesterday. Even the fire department was here and couldn’t figure out how to shut it off.
Life without a chaperone isn’t what I thought it would be, Dawes.
Sometimes it’s better; sometimes it’s not.
The only thing I can say is at least I don’t have to worry about someone else being inconvenienced, at best, or trapped at worst.