Saturday, July 23, 2011


The morning of the MRI already sucks. Again, not because it’s an MRI. But because it’s 6 in the morning and Emerson is coming with me for moral support and at goddamn 6 in the morning he’s cheerful and wearing a tie and going on about whether he should break up with Trevor or not and so I start to cry in the waiting room. Because it’s so early. “Oh, sugar,” Emerson says, and I just know he’s thinking people think he’s my husband and that I look like a mess. He’s right, I absolutely do, and I hate him.

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

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