weight: find out tonight (most likely 108, unless all that pie has caught up to me), ciggys: again i say yuck, alcohol units: 0
Lots of people walking home in the bloody cold rain. I wish it was 1962, so I could give them all a ride home and not feel as if making a habit of this would most certainly get me chopped up and thrown on the side of the road in a garbage bag. I genuinely feel bad. I wish I could get them out of the cold. Maybe I can toss them my scarf. Maybe they should take the bus. Maybe they like to walk in the bloody cold rain. I don't.
My husband is useless. He has good intentions, really, but he never does what I ask him to. All he had to do was put away his clothes I had left folded for him. That's all, nothing too strenuous. Get home, not done. Shocker. Then he says "Hey, when are you gonna put my clothes away?" and I say, "It's a good thing I have this hideous pain in my side or I would kick your ass."
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