Dear Velma, You're being a psycho. Love, Velma

Ok, I’m a bad person. Thing 1 is taking some woman he met less than 3 months ago away for the weekend to some cabin in the woods. I’m a bad person because I’m glad it’s supposed to piss down rain all weekend. I hope the fucking roof leaks. I hope there’s mild flooding. I hope small, furry animals try to invade the cabin for shelter. I hope they spend the weekend wet and miserable and after 72 hours cooped up together she would chew her own leg off to get away from him.

It’s not that I don’t like her. I don’t know her. It’s not that I mind him going out with other people. I do it myself. It’s just that he’s being an asshole right now and doing things that seem designed specifically to hurt me and I want him to feel as bad as he makes me feel sometimes.

Dear Velma,

You’re being a psycho. Get over it.

Love,
Velma

Or not. I’m always a “nice” person. There’s something that feels so good about allowing myself to feel vindictive and petty and just plain evil.