Persnickety.

 Dear Diary;

I haven’t been writing because I didn’t want to come here and whine and complain.  It’s been one of those weeks.

I think I’ll skip writing about what I really want to write about because quite frankly, I don’t want any judgement about how I’m feeling and why. 

… and for the record, if one more person quotes Eleanor Roosevelt ("No one can make you feel inferior without your consent") to me one more time, they are going to get my foot up their ass. Tell me you’ve never felt bad for something someone said to you. Come on. I dare you. Did you give consent for them to make you feel that way? I didn’t think so.

Maybe they should be allowed to make me feel that way, but they sure as hell do anyway.

I can’t write anymore.