Does that make me crazy?

Sometimes I think I live in a house full of batshit crazy people.

My boyfriend doesn't know who Dave Barry is. He doesn't think I'm funny. (This was confirmed in a later conversation). How can you not think I'm funny? I'm fucking funny. What is that you even like about me? Did you message me on OKCupid purely because I had a vagina? I don't get it.

My female roomate just came in here and told me she missed the days that she and my boyfriend lived alone together before "all these people" came along. They used to have more intimate conversations, she said.

All these people? You mean like his girlfriend?

I spend so much time getting down on myself for all this shit, and I'm tired of feeling that way. At least I go to therapy for my brand of crazy. Fuck.