Urban Drool

Dear Bitch,

I heard you loud and clear this morning as you gripped and complained to your pal that you just weren't all that happy with your recent automotive purchase and it's just been "really bugging you and making you so upset."

You miserable wench. You cut my pay, you eliminate our bonuses, you track my time at work and if I arrive 8 minutes late, you deduct that amount of time from my next paycheck, despite the fact that I am salaried and NOT paid on an hourly basis.

I live in fear that I will lose my salary and the health insurance that keeps my husband and baby girl healthy.

I was finally able to fix the muffler and converter on my 13 year old honda this past Monday, so that I could drive myself to work instead of taking the bus and getting mugged walking home from the bus stop.

I want your life for 10 seconds, for 10 measly seconds, where my biggest fucking problem is that I don't really care all that much for the brand new 2007 Lexus that I bought 3 weeks ago.

You live in another world.

I fucking hate you.

all my love,
Lumi