Dear Diary,
Yesterday I had to break up with my job. It went something like this:
Me: I don't think we should see each other anymore. It's just not working out.
Job: What? I'm shocked! I know I haven't had a lot of time for you lately, but you should have told me you were unhappy!
Me:
Job: Look, I know we can work this out. I can change!
Me: It's not you; it's me.
Job: I know we can work this out. Tell me what I can do to make you stay.
Me: Well, nothing, because I'm already seeing someone else.
Job: What? Oh my god, you're serious. You're really breaking up with me.
Me: Actually, it's my ex-boyfriend that I'm seeing.
Job: Ouch.
Job: But what about the free popcorn? And the dogs?
Me: You know as well as I do that we haven't had popcorn in weeks. And those dogs were cute at first, but now they stink and bark and eat out of my trashcan.
Job: I can't believe this. I don't know what went wrong.
Me: I know there's someone out there who's perfect for you. It's just not me.
So, yeah. That's how it went. You know, I dated this psycho in college briefly, and breaking up with him was very similar to this. If I recall correctly, he threw his wadded up kleenex at me. And now, since I still work here for the next two weeks, it's like we broke up but we're still living together. Wish I could go crash at a friend's place.
Love, Fluffy
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