I almost had a small meltdown at work this morning, when the new scale came for the post machine. Just because of the instructions for replacing the broken scale:
I felt bad for the broken scale. I didn't want it to be sad. I almost kept it.
There's something wrong with me.
I have acquired a new vehicle.
It's a Prius, which means it is excellent on petrol. It is also going to cost me $318 a month for the next five years, which means I am probably never going to be able to afford to move out of my mother's house, which means my rate of survival has now dropped to somewhere around 20%.
I shall henceforth spend my evenings hiding in a corner listening to my new records.
don't judge me