So I was going to blame my sister’s kind of passive-aggressive note on why I slept like shit. I was still mad. Me. Who was rarely ever mad. But how could she think I would give a single crap about her stripping? I wouldn’t care what she did. Why couldn’t she just call me? Why couldn’t she just tell me? I wasn’t scary. I understood, I guess to a certain point, but it still just felt like BS.
Exactly like-
