Let's see. Does posting here still work?

Well, I have a new bank account. Now to fill it with money. Tomorrow, because there ain't shit you can do with banking on a Sunday. Fuck you up the ass with a rifle, Key Bank. I am not a fraudster. Don't lock my account because you don't like the look of a check someone sent. Btw, visually, it looked fine. So I don't know what the fuck happened there. I am so frustrated with this whole mess. But I should be able to fix this money fiasco tomorrow. I have money. I just... went too far in locking down my assets under the guidance of a financial mentor who thought mobile deposit would work. Only it failed. Good evening, everybody.

What does it look like when two trustworthy greens don't trust each other? Well, I call it getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. I caught multiple sisters just sticking their hands in my cookie jar, because they just couldn't identify that it was already mine for life. In some cases, I was like, hey, cool. Glad you enjoyed my cookie. Other times, it's like, I have watched you shit talk me for years, and I've shown you grace, and now you're mad at me because I am merely polite to you. Well, what did you expect? You tried to behave like my jar was yours, and then you got mad when I took it back. Come on! Let's do better! See, here's the thing about not putting a label on it, ladies. If he keeps coming back, then he's not going away. And you need to tell your sisters about him. Otherwise, people like Lisa and Emma Green are gonna take what's yours. And then they will look at you like you're taking their cookie jar. Um, no? That was mine first? If you had asked first, maybe you'd have access now. But because you didn't, you don't now. And you get to watch me with a jar you thought was yours. Also, sometimes sisters stick their hands in your cookie jar while you're away. And it's kind of like, well, I did give you permission to do that, but when I have to find out from someone else, you look like a traitorous bitch, even though you're not. Let me be clear. All the women in my stories are fucking amazing women. My blues and greens know quality women, and I do too. I propose a rule. If you have been enjoying a cookie for at least six months, just fucking tell your sisters. I see so many of us just trampling on each other's consent unintentionally. Why do we do it? Because we feel guilty about putting our hands in the cookie jar. But come on! It's your sisters! If you can't trust them, who the fuck you gonna trust? The men who keep fucking us over while we keep letting them do it? Ladies, we are a fucking team. Sisters before Misters. But we don't always act like it. And so we hurt each other. And we have gotten better at that, but there is still an area of opportunity here. Lisa, I fucking love you. I miss our chats. But sometimes, when I look at you, I just want to scream and show you all the pain you caused me. Only I don't do that because you were in pain too, Lisa. I know you were just trying to get safe. And Emma? Really? Right in my own house without talking to me? And you really thought I wouldn't know. He's a fucking blue green. Okay, I'm done.