You Suck and PS You Owe Me Money

It’s been a year of life throwing me speed bumps, and while I’ve written in many places, I’ve not been here much.

What brought me here today?

A need to vent a little.

I haven’t been sleeping well this week with a constant nagging feeling that I was forgetting something.  Waking up panicked, worried, anxious.  Spending my days at work tired, a little nervous.

When I unlocked my phone this morning, I saw the date and I finally remembered.  Ah, a milestone birthday.  Once upon a time, I had made some very large plans for this day; I’d given it a lot of thought, once upon a time.  The time came to put those thoughts away for good so many years ago, but alas, my inner calendar, the hourglass somewhere in the shadows of my brain remembered that I was to do big things this week and I wasn’t doing any of them, wake up and do the things, do all the things!

Sorry, brain; sorry, inner timekeeper.  I don’t know how to erase those plans from those dark recesses, but those plans tanked long ago.  That ship sailed, leaving me able to find much greener pastures for myself, a magical land where people don’t lie with every breath they take.

Should the vain owner of the milestone pop in, you should know I’ve considered ruining you and your elaborate scams a few thousand times.  I’ve got evidence, dates and all, that shows you aren’t even true to your current situation, because you just can’t be.  I guess I know your lies will fall in on you eventually, so I don’t have to do it for you, but it delights me to know I can if I want. It pains me still to know you aren’t a person of integrity, not a person of honor, because I, unfortunately, believed you were good, trusted you, thought you hung the moon.  It pleases me to have something against you for all the hell you put me through because you deserve to wake up at night, wondering if today is the day the rug gets yanked out from under your lying ass.

You’re a liar, and PS you owe me money.  You owe me for work I paid you to do that you didn’t do when you were in hard times; you wandered off from two different jobs.  You owe me for groceries I bought for you in your time of need, because your time of need ended when you borrowed my car and lucked into a high-paying job.  Food, gas, anything else I paid for in your time of hardship…but you likely don’t remember all that, but yeah, you owe me money.  Honestly, I’d kinda also like my money back for that last vacation, too, because you wasted my time and my money, and you knew you’re were wasting it because everything you did was a scam, a hustle.  I should have just gone alone but I wanted to believe in my heart of hearts, down deep in my soul, that you weren’t a total dirt bag…you just couldn’t be that awful to my face? Yeah, you could, and you were.  Pay up; money order is fine so you don’t leave a trace in your shared finances.

You’re a liar.  You’re a cheater.  You’re a pill-eating narcissist who can’t keep his stories straight.  As the song goes, “I’ve come to wish you an unhappy birthday, because you’re evil and you lie.

And if you’re not the milestone owner, sorry.  Hopefully my rant, my venting, amuses outsiders.  I will sleep well tonight.

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