The other day I found this graphic next to my pillow —>
Which isn’t all that unusual because my husband Mike has a habit of leaving things under my pillow, ( i.e. 14 candy wrappers that he accuses me of “sleep eating”). I assume it is either his doing, or the alien figure I always think I see at night creeping around the room, which is probably also Mike, because he’s long and skinny and this would be a really good spot for an anal probe joke but I think I’m just going to let it drop.
This is the first time I ever saw my husband Mike…
So “ha ha Mike,” she said, her heart turning black with revenge lust.
Notice the odd way the “killing you while you sleep” phrase is cut like stairs at the bottom? That’s because Mike originally signed it “Your Husband” but spelled it “Your Husbad” and then couldn’t figure out why it looked wrong. So he cut it off. Turns out kidnappers don’t clip words from magazines to hide their writing style, they do it because they can’t spell.
I would pick on his horrible spelling if I wasn’t trapped in this glass houze.
But back to revenge. Using my formidable Photoshop skills I created hospital letterhead, wrote a letter, and mailed it addressed to myself. I knew Mike would open it, because the return address logo I created for the envelope made it look very official and he would assume it was one of my web design clients paying a bill. He does the bills because the only thing I do worse than spelling is mathing.
Inside the envelope I put this letter:
After reading this Mike asked me if it was POSSIBLE that making fake mental health letters and mailing them to myself with real stamps was maybe why I wasn’t getting more work done. I pretended to be very busy. Which I was…making a slightly different version to send to my Mom about my Dad.