I hate lying. It makes me shaky and red, not to mention I have been told I talk higher when I do. I didn’t mean to do it, I lied at work today. I was stuck and clearly had no other choice.
You see, I have a resident named Mr. D, whom comes in everyday angry about something. He’s funny, in fact, he’s hysterical. He is constantly (laughingly) telling me I am useless. Sometimes I fear he is only laughing so that I don’t cry, but whatever, I will take what I can get. For some reason, when Mr. D says something nice to me I revel in it for a bit longer. More so than say, The Preacher Man (Mr. G), whom has a compliment to give everyone (bless his heart). Continue reading “pants on fire.”