It keeps talking and I am confused. It talks about how it is sorry, but it can't be my knight in shining armor. I am unable to recall when I ever asked it to be my knight in shining armor. I try to recall why I would need a knight in shining armor, and furthermore why I would ask it in particular to be my knight in shining armor. Is my life in such a dire state? I make a checklist in my head as it keeps talking:
Education:
The 185 pounds I am losing: H.S. diploma
Me: B.S. (Caltech), Ph.D. (MIT)
Job:
The 185 pounds I am losing: None; sustains itself on rich dad's money
Me: Yes
Living situation:
The 185 pounds I am losing: Dorm room on campus
Me: Swanky apartment that I have all to myself
I am still confused and I politely ask it to shut up. I don't really say "shut up," but rather "Okay, I get it. You don't have to give me the pity talk." It gets angry that I don't want to hear the rest of the rambling speech it had prepared. But I have heard it all before, and I don't see why I should listen to it again.
It prances around my swanky apartment that I have all to myself (did I mention I live in a swanky apartment that I have all to myself?) looking for everything that belongs to it. It even checks my laundry hamper for its dirty underwear. I'm really glad it plans on taking its dirty underwear. When it's finally done gathering its stuff, it stands there expecting a goodbye kiss or a goodbye hug. I don't really believe in goodbye hugs or kisses, so I just say no and walk it to the door. At the door, it looks at me one last time, expecting that in the ten seconds that it took me to walk it to the door, I would have changed my mind on the goodbye kiss. I don't change my mind.
I shut the door and enable my security system. Then I confirm on Facebook that I indeed lost 185 pounds.
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