Every year now, around the winter holidays, I get sharp headaches as though someone stepped inside a room full of people chattering about the weather. Here I am now having a bloody headache wondering why can’t these people just shut up and keep their thoughts off about me. Too bad you won’t receive a postcard from me, and neither was I nor will I ever be an invitee at your Christmas Eve dinner parody. Suckers.
When are you going to do something about these terrible picked up random books that are now stuck on your library shelf. And awaiting to be left behind.