Gud, dude, dump as needed. I'm hoping for the best possible solution, but I have no idea whether that means effective treatment for the Gudwif, a resolution, a dissolution, or something else altogether -- whatever it turns out to be, though, we got your back.
Spike's Bitches 27: I'm Embarrassed for Our Kind.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I'm sorry, Gud. The sleepless nights portions in life always suck hard.
Gud, we all dump at some time or other. It's your turn. If you need to, feel free.
Oh, Gud, dump away. As tough as things are, I'm impressed by your ability to hold back.
Gud, dump as much as you need to.
Dump away, Gud. We've got your back.
{{{Gud}}}
Ah, thanks all. It's just a really hard time right now. I think I'll probably bring some flowers home tonight and try to somehow make things better, but I'm just getting really tired of living like this.
Joining the chorus of Gud, man, you're pretty much a rock in the rest of your life. This is the one place you don't have to be.
A friend woke up one morning to find the three-year-old's bed empty, the back door (and the fridge door?!?!?) standing open. The kid was in the back yard, putting the eggs in holes he'd dug. "Mama! We're gonna grow chickens!"
BWAH!
So, which one should I do now? Take my online mid-term or take my third practice GRE? Help mama.