I'm not mad. No, I'm not. Why would I even bother any more? It's just so exhausting for me. I mean really, my being mad isn't even going to make a difference with you, is it? It's not like you ever think about how I'll feel when you go out there and skate around listlessly. Stop rolling your eyes at me and listen.
No, I'm not mad. I'm just very, very disappointed, and I don't want to talk about it anymore.
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2 comments:
Is this a domestic dispute that will pass, or are you breaking up? Think it through before filing the papers. We'd hate if it were to go so far as a blog name change.
Although, on second thought, "Divorced to the Oil" could make for some emotionally charged posts.
Think:
-"Huggy Bear, Leave me alone, you're smoothering me!",
-"Pisani, PisanYou",
-"I can't take any Moreau"
-"You'll be Souray!"
@ Jamie:
Indeed it would!
But nah, I'm thinking of this more as sending them to bed without dinner. I'm not even gonna bother to pretend I won't be back in the misery seat Friday night. Clap clap.
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