It’s MY party

So I’m still schlepping my Cranberry Juice around and choking it down in a most dramatic fashion. ( Think drinking straight shots of pure rubbing alcohol okay?)

Limping, trying to win sympathy from my hubby.

The so-called prince I’ve been babying for two days because he has a cold. A COLD!
Yes I’m going on my third night of chicken soup and with a side of Cranberry Juice while the hubby reminds me…”but this isn’t my fault, honey”
“Yeah whatever”..I say as I roll my eyes and think “What a bitch you are!” to myself.
“Nevermind that this man waits on you hand and foot when you’re sick, you heartless, spineless little wench, plus the fact that he puts up with you on a daily basis for better, for worse, no matter how ugly, fat, bloated, beautiful, sexy, insecure, mentally unstable you feel….you’re just evil, I tell you, evil!!!”

Me and my self-inflicted affliction and I’m wanting sympathy….perhaps in my Cranberry juice logged brain, I meant “SYMPHONY”….for the violins that should be playing as I’m the guest of honor at my own pity party.

One Response

  1. Tess Says:

    I’ve got the cheese if you’re supplying the whine! *wink*

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