I swear, Sarah (the asshole), is trying to kill me. Don't believe me? Look at the piece of shit car she drives me around in:
Yeah, that's right, she drives a car with a front bumper that hangs off. As if being a lawyer who drives a Saturn isn't bad enough, the damn car is hardly road worthy. You'd think that a lawyer would drive a Beamer or a Benz, but not Sarah. Nope, for her, it's a Saturn with 115,000 miles on it. And she seems to have zero desire to replace the thing, either, which forces me to be seen all over town in some broke ass piece of shit car. Oh, I'm sure it was a great car five years ago, but that was five years ago. Things change - just look at Sarah's gray hair. That wasn't there five years ago, I'm sure.
Oh, and in case just being in a car that is in danger of falling apart just by being driven, let me tell you how Sarah did this to her car: she hit one of those cement pylons when she was parking it. I shit you not, she can't even avoid objects that aren't moving. This isn't even the first stationary object that she has hit. I've seen her driving record, and I know all about that brand new parked car that she backed into and totaled. Smooth move, ex-lax. I'm pretty sure that my death will be coming in some horrible accident, most likely involving Sarah hitting a curb or something otherwise completely innocuous.
I hate my life.