Look at how the husband leaves me the morning newspaper. All willy-nilly like this, sections out of order and upside freaking down.

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It’s like he doesn’t even KNOW me (and the organization FREAK that lives inside).

It gets worse. On Sunday, he texted me to say: “Pick up a paper. Had to use ours in Manny’s cage.”

The Sunday paper….that I had not read yet.

Perhaps it’s all part of some elaborate scheme to drive me insane and/or send me to prison?

I’m on to you, man.