50 Shades of Black & Blue
I'm thinking of writing a new book about my life (since apparently writing four cookbooks doesn't count...). I'm going to call it 50 Shades of Black & Blue.
In it, my own family members and friends I've had for 10 years turn on me. They hate me and hate on me like it's their full time job. They sit around every day talking about me non-stop, even when I'm not there. They talk and talk and talk some more about how obsessed I am with them. They bang their hands and wave napkins and cackle about how crazy I am.
Meanwhile across town, people with cute 1950s names -- Penny, Jan -- that own salons come up to me saying they want to carry Milania Hair Care. Of course, I listen. Then they start talking trash about my sister-in-law. Of course, I stop listening. I get up and leave. Doesn't matter though, because I am invisible now.