Some lady dropped off a bunch of books yesterday, saying she'd come back later for her store credit. I said that sounded like a fine idea, and off she went. People do this all the time and I'm totally cool with it, but in this instance especially so, because I'm not sure I'd have been able to disguise the look of horror that took up residence on my face as I perused her offerings. (That sounds...weird. I mean, "perused her offerings"? If Edith Wharton wrote erotica, maybe.)
First I pulled out a couple books on how to build a happy marriage.
Aww, I thought.
Mawwiage. Then I came across something called "Not Just Friends: Rebuilding Trust and Recovering Your Sanity After Infidelity." That was significantly less cheering. Then there were some books on parenting in the stern, unattractive face of divorce. And finally:
As a friend of mine said, the truly tragic part about this is that "none of the books worked." It's a valid point, no?
1 comment:
um, sad is the only word i can think of to describe the situation. wow.
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