Laundry

I don't understand why you're so upset. It's just LAUNDRY. Sure, you asked me to do a load, and I did one, but how was I supposed to know that one meant three? I just don't think of laundry as overly important, as shocking as that may come.

And when you started yelling and I started counting on my fingers to keep my cool, you got upset about that too. What, you'd rather me lose my carefully constructed composure and yell back? Obviously not, 'cause the one halfway sarcastic comment that slipped out got me slapped. And, really, being called an 'arrogant bitch' is quite the motivator. I buried my face in the clothes in my arms to keep from laughing out loud. Nope, never heard THAT one directed at me before. (Mostly 'cause the people who think of me that way can't pronounce 'arrogant'.)

What was the big deal with that top? Just because you never saw me wear it.... Since when are you ever around to know what I wear? Besides, that was months ago - the piece is WAY out of season. It just didn't get washed 'cause I never have enough whites to make a load.

Staring in the bathroom mirror, I started to untie the beaded bracelette I wear as a choker, then stopped upon hearing your DULCET (read: bellowing) tones chiming down the hall. Then I retied it to the point of strangling myself. Hey, if I can't breathe, I can't speak, and perhaps that'll make me less of a scapegoat for your temper.