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Nicolette Worthing

I should pull over. I shouldn't be driving with like this. I shouldn't be doing anything with tears streaming down my face like this. Thank God I didn't put any make-up on. Well no, had I had make-up on than I wouldn't even have a reason to be crying. 

That bastard. I should really be thanking God for the fact that I don't have kids. He said I didn't need make-up to look pretty, he said I didn't need expensive French lingerie to look sexier. And then he brings a girl with exactly that, make-up and expensive lingerie into our own home. He's a bastard and an idiot for leaving her thongs in the coat room. I'm never wearing pink underwear again.

Why can't I find a goddamn parking space?! Why do I suddenly feel like the only person on this earth who can't get a single thing that they want? A single thing they want to go right.

A parking space. Godammit, someone's got it. Around the block I go again. I hope it doesn't say it all over my face - My husband is a cheater and I couldn't find a parking space. I can't wait. Where's my compact mirror? I reached inside my bag, feeling around the contents whilst keeping one hand on the steering wheel. Nice Nico, crying and driving recklessly. What an exemplary figure of society. No, I'm an exemplary figure of depressed, broken, angry, and totally screwed up. 

A parking space. I've got it. Beep, beep, beep. I've parked it and the sensor beeping stops. I take my compact mirror out and. And I look like shit and it is so, much too clearly, written on my face. This is disgusting. 

Where the hell are the bathrooms at Jefferson High? 

The End

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