noodle

You know what?
Fuck it.
Apparently, I can't drive, I'm an embarrassment out in public, I have no idea what image I project to the world, and you'd rather slam the door and go to bed than talk to me.
Fine. I emptied the cat litter, vacuumed up the random pieces, ran the dishwasher, walked all the trash down to the compacter thing 1/2 mile away, told the neighbor that his interior light was on so he didn't have a dead battery tomorrow and now I'm fucking tired.
You're welcome. But I don't even care.
I just want a fucking shower and to go to bed.
I'm glad you feel better and I love you dearly, but back the fuck off.
I'm fucking exhausted and I can't sleep for shit. Quit finding fault with every word that comes out of my mouth, everything that I attempt to do, new things that I can't quite figure out, and the things that I don't do the way you want them done.
I need some fucking sleep and a little less stress.
I love you, good night.

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