Thank you
I am bitter and depressed today.
I want to write something, but I know it will come out badly. I’ll sound like a complainer and a blamer of the worst possible sort. I’m well aware I should look on the bright side of things. I know the week I feel battered by is nothing compared to what others are going through all over the world today.
BUT
I can’t help it. I hate everyone today. I have an emotional hangover. The Mr. was such an asshole to me last week. I was throwing a baby shower for his sister, and I had all this work due. To top it off, I fucked up my back, and it hurts to do everything.
My sister-in-law did not even thank me for the shower.
The Mr. says I’m just too praise-greedy, and he’s probably right. I fully admit it. I wanted to be thanked. More like, I WANT TO BE THANKED. Profusely.
Thank you for the special invitation you personally designed and had printed. Thank you for ordering those custom printed M&Ms for the party. Thank you for buying that special premium chocolate cake from a fancy bakery. Thank you for buying $60 in liquor and $150 in food just to make this day extra wonderful for me. Thank you for all the fresh flowers you put in the room. Thank you for getting all those supplies to handpaint onesies that I will cherish for years to come. Thank you for making the effort to hire a mehndi artist to come paint temporary tattoos on everyone. Thank you for arranging babysitting so my friends could all come. Thank you for the shower, I loved it, it was amazing, transcendent, life-changing, epic, incredible, fabulous, second only to the creation itself, so pleasurable the mountains shook and angels wept.
Hell yes, I wanted to hear that.
Or just, “thank you.”
