Fortress of Solitude

I am at work, you know working, when the custodian comes in to take out my trash. This is our conversation:

S: There she is, all by herself in the corner.
L: Yep.

What I wanted to say, however, was this:

“Do you imagine I am unaware of how alone I am?? I am inordinately aware of my solitude seventy percent of each day. The other thirty percent I spend sleeping, and am therefore blissfully dreaming about NOT being alone. Can you see my left hand? No ring! I know I am alone and thank you for cheering me up on this dreary afternoon.”


There is a good chance I read too much into that. I may have serious problems.