pants on fire.

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.”