The succotash, oh how it suffers
Hour 55 of my captivity.
It still doesn’t feel like work. But next to the “law of diminishing returns” on Wikipedia, I’m pretty sure you could put a photo of my tired eyes and no written explanation would be needed.
I’m giving somebody one last chance to — well, not impress me — NOT piss me off.
I was hell-bent on hatred (and contemplating just how wrong it would be to engage in some healthy “hate sex” to take out my frustrations, and I really don’t care with whom at this point as long as it HAPPENS). But then somebunny had to go and be really fuckin’ nice to me and hinder my hurt just a little bit.
“Why you wanna
Show up in a old t-shirt that I love
Why you gotta tell me that I’m looking good
Don’t know what
You were thinkin’
You were doing
Moving in for a hug
Like you don’t know I’m coming undone
Why you gotta
Why you wanna
Make me keep wanting you?”— Jana Kramer, “Why Ya Wanna”
Although I’m sure said individual will probably find a new and improved excuse. (Again, continuing the theme of being unavailable for what THEY want to do.) I already have the lame excuse ready to hand said person since I can’t imagine they have any left.
Either way, I will be doing said activity this weekend … and if it’s alone, I can certainly think of worse things.