I missed my hair appointment. It wasn’t my fault. The traffic was bad, and there were no parking spaces in the tiny car park.
The fact that you knew that the traffic would be bad at that time of day doesn’t matter. Why should you have to leave earlier? Especially when the hairdressers is only ten minutes down the road.
It doesn’t matter, too, that the tiny car park is always full whenever you pass it. Why should you have to spend your time finding an alternative space? The hairdressers should provide enough parking spaces for their clients.
He doesn’t find me attractive anymore. All I’ve done is love and care for him, his children, and now he isn’t interested.
It doesn’t matter that your unkempt locks haven’t been near a straightener for the last few years. A slight brush will do the trick.
And he says you dress dowdy? Well, what a cheek! Wouldn’t he dress dowdy if he had to spend large parts of his day hurrying after the little ones? It’s not as if you can wear a halter neck dress whilst cleaning the cooker, can you?
And make-up? It takes time to put on make-up really well? And if you had the time, you’d be the spitting image of Audrey Hepburn, wouldn’t you?
I can’t finish writing this novel. There just aren’t enough hours in the day.
It doesn’t matter that when you sit down to write you are distracted by a million other things. Of course, you must send that email right away. If you don’t your boss will be mad.
And then there’s the new phone you need to order. It’s not as if you have loads of time to browse for one. You know, with work and looking after the children. This could be the only time you’ll have to browse for one.
And then there’s Tabitha; she needs her pink frilly dress ironed for her party. It’s this afternoon. Yes, you should have done it yesterday, but you had a long day and… There just aren’t enough hours in the day.
Work’s getting me down. Everyone is so catty and cliquey.
You don’t fit in at work, although you’ve tried your best to be ever so amicable. These people have been friends for ages; they’re not going to let an upstart like you into their circle. They’re jealous. Scared that you’re going to take their positions away from them, and, well, you don’t like to boast, but you could do their jobs whilst sleeping. Six months into the job and you already know as much as they do about it. Probably even more.
And they’re so bitchy! Backstabbing is a daily thing, especially about so-called friends and allies. What happened to the sisterhood?! Sisters are certainly doing it for themselves here.
And you hate that you’ve been dragged into it. You and the other new chick. You’ve been forced into making your own team. And yes you might spend most of your time together talking about those who have wronged you, but that isn’t your fault, is it? It’s the culture that’s pushed you into it.
I don’t have anyone. Nobody gets me.
The fact that you spend most evenings, if not all, indoors is immaterial. You’ve tried going out in the past. You speak to people, but no-one gives you the time of day.
And what about the connection? You can’t be expected to talk to any old person. You’re different. You’re unique. People just don’t see things the way you do. That’s why it’s so hard to find anyone.
People call you stuck up and self-important, but that isn’t true. They simply don’t understand you. Nobody understands you.
Poor soul. It’s hard to be so misunderstood.