Household Conversations

It’s the middle of the day and we happen to all be hanging out in the living room, chatting casually. I’m blogging.

By the way, this is not our living room. This will never be our living room.

Whore: (reading my post) Wait, wait… I’m not in this! I was there and you’ve written me out!

Me: It’s artistic license. I romanticized the story. You are in it, just you know… (quietly) at the end.

Whore: (skipping to the end) Oh my god! You wrote me out just so you could have that lame same-as-the-title ending!

Me: It’s a story telling device. The journey goes full circle and it becomes about myself learning self empowerment and learning that I don’t have to be involved in areas of the industry that I’m not comfortable with. It’s nice!

Slave: Yeah, that’s lame.

Whore: You know what? I don’t even feel like I was there now. We had a lovely night and my memory is now tainted. I’m like a ghost now, a ghostly presence, erased forever.

Me: OK, that is a little OTT.

Slave: Am I in this anywhere?

Me: (pretending to look at my phone) Yeees, but I think only once so far (hurriedly) but you are definitely in it!

Slave: Oh yeah. I found it.

Me: Do you guys only follow my blog to read the bits that you’re in?

Slave and Whore exchange glances.

“Yeah pretty much.”



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