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I am a small fry, a nobody. I know that when I die of stress or heart attack or brain hemorrhage, I will not be called a martyr by my Board of Directors. No resolution will be passed to install my half butt near the parking lot. No sparrow poop for me either! All I will do is proudly go and stand in queue of millions of dead donkeys with broken backs in heaven. And bray my prayers loudly to neutered angels who can't probably play substitute to dear lass Sunny Leonne. And now don't ask me who she is. I know her very closely, though she has the right to disagree!! Poor she.
What do you want me to do? Live for you? What would that really mean? No really, what would that really mean? Write me a few lines, tell me that it will be different from my todays. Tell me that we will dance around trees and all bills will get paid. Tell me that there will no boss, no clients, no team members and no targets. I have a better idea. Marry me, let me be your wife!
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PS: This writing is not judgmental of wives or non working women. It is just funny easy reading.
Not just funny and not easy, although it is funny and it's not difficult... It's also profound. I thank you for it.
ReplyDeleteIt wouldn't be different....just better. Try it.
ReplyDelete