O.K. so I found this funny little blurb that I wrote when I was really frustrated with lovey-dovey couples being all.....well, lovey-dovey. heat up a hot pocket and enjoy!
Ten years from now.
I am sitting in my house alone.
The room smells so bad that the S.W.A.T. team has to come in routinely to make sure there isn't a dead body hidden somewhere.
there isn't a dead body.
just dead hopes and dreams, with some crusty tears decomposing in my eye sockets.
I would be the crazy cat lady, except even cats don't like me.
my apartment would be covered in mold, except that even mold finds this place uninhabitable.
it reeks of sadness and broken hopes.
thank goodness for the dust! flakes of dead skin keeping me company in my filthy abode.
They watch with me as I stare out the window at young couples holding hands-----electricity surging between them.
my only electricity comes from the microwave.
I heat up another hotpocket.
It comes with two, but I have no one to share with. The other sits freezerburned for the next few months.
I can't stand to look at it, because then I remember why it's there, and whose it should be.
I avoid the freezer for the next little while because all the discarded hot pockets remind me that I'm eating alone.
Apparently my brain is so out of practice that I don't think to eat the other hot pocket for the next meal.
don't be too concerned, just come in once in a while and run a vacuum over me. I'll be fine.