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