It wouldn't hurt the kids' development for me to take a class one night a week, and it wouldn't hurt you to have to fix them dinner while I'm doing it. Make spaghetti. Jesus, how hard is that?
I let Dwight Horseman kiss me once, in a weak moment, while you were away for work, and hated myself for years. That's why we stopped going to that church; I couldn't bear seeing him.
Go to the doctor. Every year. No stalling. If you don't, you'll get colon cancer and die and I'll be alone.
Love this. I get the feeling that I'm reading entries from a woman's diary with just such a title. So much bitterness harbored in one heart! And yet so familiar.
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