You Kids Get Outta My Yard!

I'm going to be a crusty old spinster living in an apartment with several cats. Actually, scratch the cats. Too much committment. Everyone says that when they can't seem to make their love lives work, but I'm pretty sure that's what life has in store for me. I found myself staring at the third rail this morning and wondering how much it would hurt. Nothing like a little suicidal ideation to start the day off right.

Now, don't get all worried. Alexia is prone to the melodrama. I'm convinced I have Seasonal Affective Disorder. As soon as we move those clocks back, somebody better hide the steak knives. Makes for the most scintillating conversation, don't you know.

No time for chit-chat, there are paper tablecoths to be bought!