Don't let the bastards grind you down.
After a rude call from The Daddler's sister today, I was more than a little agitated. She's a pathological homeopath. I heard him trying to spell the prescription his urologist had given him. I'm sure she was going to research it and tell him to substitute Saw Palmetto or some other form of snake oil. I snatched the phone out of his hand and spelled it for her and asked if she needed the doctor's contact information. I told her I didn't appreciate the way her family had treated me and she said she had no idea what I was talking about and I said, "Never mind, here's Daddy." I handed the phone to him, and lurked around a little, enough to hear him say, "She takes pretty good care of me."
Fuck that bitch.
I had a good cry. I want to run, but my knee feels a little fragile, so I think I'll skip today. Maybe I'll go cry some more. I have a feeling if I finish reading Owen Meany, that'll happen. Not sure I'm up for it.
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