Dove Rambles

Going No Contact

A massive document I typed up right after this happened, a few days after my 42nd birthday.

“… we stay on the internet, until a hopping mad woman drives three miles across town to throw frozen chicken at my head.”

Apropos of nothing, Mother binned the Christmas dinner and left the home for two days. I still have no concrete reason why.

It’s perfectly normal to threaten to abandon your tween at Social Services because they accidentally didn’t record your favourite soap.