Playing The Pity Card

Okay, I’ll admit . . . I’m pretty proud of the way I’ve adapted to the changes going on in my life lately.

Nobody thought I’d be able to handle being a single woman owning my own home.  Sure I don’t know a lot about home repairs and home maintenance, but I know people who do . . . and they like me and are willing to help me if I ask.  

Nobody thought I’d be able to handle the finances . . . that my salary alone wasn’t enough.  Uh, um, I was the only one working for the last 2-1/2 years and I was supporting TWO households with one paycheck . . . a fact I have pointed out quite frequently to several people.

Everybody thought I’d be horribly lonely rattling around in this big old house with just Millie & Rocky (and Fluff when he decides he wants to join us).  I was lonely BEFORE when there was another person living in the house with me.  There wasn’t much conversation.  There wasn’t much interaction.  There was a lot of anger and hostility . . . so being alone is a blessing.

I’m a tough little cookie . . . and I’m hellbent to show everyone that I can do this by myself . . .

However . . . I’m not above pulling the pity card from time to time . . . and the pity card I pull is the “poor girl with a broken arm” card . . .

I use it at work to get out of pulling, toting, filing charts . . .

I use it to get the front walk shoveled when it snows . . .

I use it to get help at the grocery store . . .

I gotta tell ya . . . I’m pretty impressed at how a flash of my scar and batting my big blue eyes will pretty much get me whatever I need . . .

Just think what I could do if I used my powers for evil instead of good?!

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