You know those people who launch into an endless, mind-numbing, eye-glazing narrative on their various health complaints when you ask, "how are you?" And you're trapped, and you can't get out, and you vow you will never ever turn into that, even in your decrepit, disease-ridden old age, should it come to that?
I realized I just spent ten minutes detailing the various aspects of my cat's medical conditions, treatment, and litterbox output in response to a coworker's innocuous query, "how's the cat?"
Dear God.
2 comments:
I'm so, so sorry
You and me both, man. Next step: coordinated polyester separates, oversized glasses, and sensible shoes.
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