I was really hoping this would be the month you would decide that you’ve visited me enough over the course of the last 35 years. I mean, you were 3 days late, and there was absolutely nothing else that could have been going on. What gives? Why are you still showing up?
Really. I’ve had enough of you. I don’t like how you interfere with my life, how you mess with my moods, and how much money you’ve cost me over the years. Money in monthly supplies, ruined clothes, and in medications to dull the effects of your arrival. All of it. I’m done. I’m ready for you to go away for good.
Can you be bribed?
Do I have anything you’d like to have?
I’m sure there has to be something.
Go away already, okay?