I am a very fair person. I think I've mentioned this before. If I am responsible for dishing things out/cutting/pouring, the task seem so important I will inevitably stress out trying to make sure everyone gets the same exact amount of whatever it is. I have tried to pinpoint this to my childhood, and reasoned with myself that I am this way because I grew up with so many siblings that I now have the desire to make things uber fair; except none of my other siblings ending up with that weird quirk. Just me. I go with it. In my world, if you are sharing something with me, it is going to be VERY fair.
Life at the moment does not seem to be playing along with those rules. It has been consistently giving me the smaller pour, so much smaller that I'm looking at my glass compared to the others and thinking "hey, you almost missed me entirely!"
Today my love, the father of my angel baby, moved out of our place. I am heartbroken, beaten down, and blotchy.
