Seems I have a new name. Ami. That's Urdu (i.e. Pakistani) for Mommy. From out of nowhere Z. has started calling me this. Its okay. My MIL will always be "Ami" as far as I am concerned, but since she baled, I guess I'll take over the name. He sounds so cute, "Ami, I love you!"
S. hasn't caught on to this, but that's okay with me.
As my dad always says, call me what you want, but don't call me late for dinner :-)
When I have work stuff, home stuff suffers. I get all twisted up inside and it shows at home. I hate that. I wish I had a job I loved. A job where I thrived. I don't thrive here. I don't thrive around these people. Too much pressure. Too many agendas. Too much game-playing.
I suppose I should do something about it, but the effort would be monumental. And I probably couldn't find a job where I am so well-paid. That would be a real problem.
Enough wallowing.
I'll have a lovely, blessed day and pray that you do, too.
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