Stupid Crappy Doing it Myself

If you’re feeling sad, or maybe a little fat or hideous, don’t come crying to me. I don’t know how you feel. I have trials of my own. For example, today I had to rise early in order to assemble my own sandwich. I raised the blinds and brewed my own coffee. By myself, see. Yesterday, I laundered my own clothes and made my own bed. All me, for me. This nonsense has to stop. Summer is almost over – what am I to do when blood is nipp’d and ways be foul? Am I to bear my OWN logs into the hall? Am I to tote my OWN milk home, frozen in pail? Bullshit. I won't have it.