Or, rather, dealing with you, the person that is you. Or whoever it is that you become when you annoy me.
Not all the time, but sometimes. Enough? Too much?
Hard to assign responsibility here, and don’t want to give too much credit.
Here. We. Are.
Maybe it’s not you or me, but us.
Though I doubt it. You seem fine. I’m just not.
What are we even doing here?
Let’s change the subject…
Lovely weather, is it not?
(You annoy me so much.)
(Except when you don’t.)
Think it will rain?
(It’s not a matter of “if” but “when.”)
A little rain never hurt anybody!
(Like the tides, or the apocalypse.)
Hm? Yes, of course, I’ll call you!
That goes without saying, does it?