an episode of Jerry Springer

I had an ex-boyfriend call yesterday. A lovely guy but obviously not for me. He called to wonder why it's hard to share his space with his new partner. He wondered this out loud, I listened and hung laundry on the line. What a bizarre choice to call me for relationship advice.. Honestly!
What was nice though was laughing at his jokey way of talking to me and the way he told me I'm not allowed to get a tattoo. As if I'd do anything he said! I can truly say I miss his parents, and all that delicious food. I miss listening to french at family events where I felt paraded as the new girlfriend (not cosy) but felt vindicated by the fact that I could understand everything they were saying in french when they thought they were talking about me behind my back.
You see people at times in your life for a reason, and he made sense then. He was scary, tattooed and huge. I guess that's where I was up to then...
I've come a long way.
I described my ex-husband's latest choices and mentioned that I thought it's like the days of our lives. He disagreed and told me I'm living in an episode of Jerry Springer. Well I guess that's right except we're all sure who the father is.
Today's revelation: I spent today in a please-let-it-not-be-my-birthday-tomorrow SLUMP. And when you're in a slump, you're a grump.