Note to self...

When you're dealing with the sadness of a death, don't read stories about when Joyce died.

I'm the puddle on the floor now.

A letter of complaint

Dear Person who just drove by-

It is 3:30 in the freaking morning. I am in my house. You are in your car. I do not, and I repeat, do NOT want to hear your music.

Thank you, asswipe.

~A not very happy Roni~