Are you not tired of my spiraling mood-swings? Are you not sick of hearing me make mountains out of mole-hills? Do you not wish you could take me by the shoulders and shake some sense into me? Aren't you interested in pointing out to me that nearly each one of us is beset by tragedy why do I continue to obsess with mine? Don't you wish you could look me in the eye and tell me to stop being such a fucking drama queen?