Just signed on to the computer because Sabu has taken my spot on the couch where I was knitting a hat that isn’t working out the way I want it to (might as well let it simmer in the back of my brain until the dog gets tired of the couch, right?) and found this in my inbox:
Will you marry me?
No, I’m not crazy. dead serious.
WTF? From the narc, of course. He must have lost his mind if he thinks this is going to get a response from me. If it weren’t so late I would be sending out “update your contact info” messages, but I don’t yet have everyone sorted into groups – I plan to use a couple of addresses to separate “friends & family” from “business.”
Anyway. This. This is beyond the Pale. Part of me wants to fire off a nasty response. A poison missive that will boil his eyeballs right out of his head. The logical part of my brain knows that any response at all would only be feeding his fire. I refuse to play his games. I’m blogging instead 🙂
In 14 days I will have been away from that man for a full year. I guess he’s getting desperate now. Too bad he’s still a dick. It doesn’t rain but it pours…