day 11201: random letters from the abyss
I know you like to talk things out, and I fully understand that some people need to vocalize their thoughts in order to solve their problems. However, I'd like to point out the fact that I am not a professional hand holder. I do not get paid to hold your hand. I do not get paid to sit in your office for hours upon end, listening to you trying to figure out what you did wrong.
Come to think of it. We did this a lot last year, and I partially blame you and your need for hand holding as the reason why I barely saw sunlight all last summer. But you were new then, and had the guts to go on vacation at the busiest time of year, so it had to be done.
This year... not so much. Adios amigo.
Dear Driver of the #11 Bayview bus,
I know it probably frustrates you that you're always travelling, but never actually get anywhere. But you've got a busload of innocent people relying on you and your keen-eyed attention on the road.
So do you really think you should be yabbering away on your cell phone?
All the best,
I love you.
I love that you love to clean.
I love that you love to clean my room in particular.
But I'd love more if I could come home one day and find things exactly where I left them... because you know, I keep thinking I'm losing my mind, and I keep buying things twice.
You and your snarky attitude are pissing me off.
Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp. Right back at you.
ps... I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions this afternoon and thought you made a mistake. But honestly, you can't really fault me for it. Everything else you did for me was wrong.