I need a teeny tiny violin for all the feeling sorry for myself I got going.
I am going to try and go somewhere for my birthday. Maybe head up the hill towards Potato Patch or Chester. I’ve requested the day off and I have a little saved from last week’s paycheck and this week’s check should be a good one again, so I think I can get enough gas money for a day trip. I really just need to get away. I’d go for a couple days if I could.
Apparently, everything that happens is my fault. Just ask my sister. Her cat pees on the only good pair of shoes I own, it’s my fault for leaving my shoes on the floor (I don’t have any place else for them to go). She knocks something on mine down and it breaks (something even my clumsy cat has managed not to knock down the six months it has been on the TV stand) and it’s my fault for leaving it where she can knock it down. And how dare I be angry by any of this.
As if my life wasn’t enough of a cosmic joke.