Morning Me: It is still dark outside, what the hell? Why did you decide I should go to the gym at 5am today? Seriously, what have I ever done to you?
Yesterday Me: What? You keep bitching about how you need to get in shape! I’m helping!
Morning Me: Well, yeah but I told you I would work out in the evenings. Like, that has been the plan all along. Sleep in a little longer, and work-out before bed time. Don’t play stupid! You know this.
Yesterday Me: Oh, Oh yeah like that ever works out. You have cancelled on your own plans the last 13.5 weeks in a row. By the time 8:30pm rolls around, you have a list of excuses a mile long. The other day you did make it to the basement to put a DVD in, then went and ate half a pint of ice cream by yourself you lazy asshole! So don’t act like I’m the one being unreasonable, here!
Morning Me: Oh, well that’s just perfect! Maybe if you would quit having so much wine before bed, I wouldn’t have to be so hung-over all the damn time! Did you ever think of that?!?
Yesterday Me: You know what, just quit being a whiney bitch and get on the treadmill. Get sweaty, and thank me later. OK? I mean do you even hear yourself? You are so ungrateful.
Morning Me: I’m just saying… if you would quit watching reruns of The New Girl and Malcolm in the Middle on Netflix at a reasonable hour, I wouldn’t have to be such a hag every morning.
Yesterday Me: Whatever. Quit being a loser. I’m probably also going to have to listen to a bunch of bitching from Evening Me tonight because her stupid legs and arms are going to be sore from me signing her up for that kick-boxing class.
Morning Me: Oh, yeah. She is going to be pissed. Have fun with that.
Yesterday Me: You’re ridiculous. Just, start. Again.