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Thoughts on hotel rooms and single-parenting

I’m in a hotel room. Again.

No tent for us today. There is something to be said for spending some time in hotel rooms.

I can’t help but think of the people who were in the room before me. The good times had in the room, the fights, the sex, the sadness, the car racing. Yep. We are staying at a hotel on a car racing track.

I wonder how many women have been paid for the use of their orifices in this room.

I wonder about the litres of alcohol and the crazy amounts of drugs that have definitely been consumed in this room.

Hotels seem to be these modern day Sodoms where all the unholy things can happen.

Yet I am sharing my room with my two kids and about forty plush toys.

Oh and any single parents who are also authors or artists out there that actually get any work done and still get all meals into their kids bellies and interact with their kids… yep… kudos to you. Cause this shit is hard.

The old me may have envied the person who stayed in this room before me having all the alcohol and acrobatic sex they could squeeze in between check in and check out. But right now, there is no place I’d rather be.

Love

Amberley

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