What have I done to upset you? Are you angry with me? Do you need a new charger? An electrician? A cookie?

TELL ME WHAT YOU NEED!

When you suddenly stopped working, MY world stopped working. I understand if you are rebelling against the cheap RAM the owner put into me awhile ago, but this is NOT the way to handle your emotions.

While you were a piece of me, I felt whole, and I was also approximately the weight of a young killer whale. With you out of me, I weigh as much as a deck of cards. I am naked, and no longer whole. The large gaping hole feels like my heart has been ripped out.  Only you are on the bottom, so you are closer to my ass.  My ASS has been ripped out!

What have I DONE to you?

I have already apologized on several occasions, but love cannot hold us together anymore. It is time to come out with the truth. I’m sorry if I upset you, but my love for power went far beyond the power you could provide me, and I had an affair with the Dell wall charger. Approximately 1,712.124643124564523487923878900752384 times.

I have 178 more decimal places if you need a more exact number.

No one can ever replace you. Please come back to me.

With eternal power,

The Laptop

Yesterday I went to the store because I needed a new toothbrush. Instead of picking up the normal or the “average” bristle brush, I pick up the extra-super soft toothbrush. Basically, it makes me feel like I’m brushing my teeth with a COTTONBALL.

Does anyone use that type of toothbrush, honestly? The extra-soft? Maybe children, but no one else! Not allowed anymore!  After brushing my teeth with it tonight I feel like my teeth are very angry with me and are plotting their revenge while I am asleep.

Well, maybe.

Speaking of sleeping, lately I have been having some REALLY weird dreams. Dreams involving monkeys and merry-go-rounds.

‘Nuff said.

At any rate, after these dreams, I usually wake up in a similar position to this:

Yes, I just finished watching Back to the Future, you got a problem with that? YOU WANNA TAKE THIS OUTSIDE?! Ah, nevermind.

So, Internet, here is my confession:

My name is Jillian Kimberlin, and I have a problem. I’m addicted to electric blankets.

Honestly, if someone doesn’t take this one away from me, I might do something IRRATIONAL - like reading a textbook, or cooking something that doesn’t have the words: “Microwave for 3 minutes on HIGH” printed on the side of the box.