I made Justin’s bad day harder. He has to discipline someone at work today, and I complained about transit and the commute this morning, and now he thinks I hate our house and want to move because it’s too far away.
I don’t care where we live, really, as long as we’re together. And not fighting.
I want to crawl under a rock and die.
Weston IS too far away. So is Hamilton. You moved to Weston because he has a house there and you love him. Ditto (‘cept in my case, again, Hamilton).
That means that we have sacrificed and we can bitch if desired.
That’s my logic, anyhow. Tra la!
I warned you! I totally warned you!
Warned me of what? That I would be a bitch someday? That I would want to crawl under a rock and die because of my tactless manner and bad timing?
Who are you?
No, really.