My husband and I now work at the same facility. He's a property manager. I am not sure what I do, but I've been at it for a year. He has been a property manager for four days.

It's weird. We talk to each other like automatrons at work. 'Hello how are you doing.' 'I am fine and you.' Like we don't know how we are doing. Like he didn't just see me wandering around the bedroom in the old bra and mismatched socks. Like I didn't just yell for him to either eat the lunch I pack for him or go and buy some other food, dammit!

In other news: I hate parking structures. Last night, I drove around one for fifteen minutes. Each time I circled, I wound up at the ticket gate because I missed the five-foot-wide ramp to the next level. I would roll down the window and explain I need to park. The parking guy would look confused before he told me to 'hop the curb and swing left to go back into the structure.' It happened three times. Don't you think he would remember the woman who needed to park?

And wouldn't he want to reach through the window and scratch out her very stupid eyes?


And also: my cat has pushed me off the bed three nights in a row. Does this give me allowance to eat her for dinner?