Really Fast Story About A Disk Doctor That I'll Edit Later

Rob found my old Disk Doctor in the basmenet which is basically this machine you attach a CD to that is supposed to make scrached disks playable again. He kind of (i think) heckled me a little for having one when duh everyone knows they don't work, so I told him the story of why I had one, which goes like this:

So when I was 20, I think, I didn't have money for new music even though I wanted some, but, I figured, with a disk doctor, that i could fix up my old scratched cds and have more music again that i hadn't heard in ages. i was pore, ad they were $30. i scraped it together and essentially didn't have the money, i didn't have enough for money for it, really, but i scraped it together and bought itw ith my last thirgty bucks.

it didn't work, and when i realized this (which was after excitedly unwrapping it, reading the directions carefully and using it on my favorite and worst-off disk) I sat there and cried and cried.

my life wasn't that happy, and this was shit icing on the shit cake you know?.

so, i tell this story to rob and he gets really quiet and his face wrinkled and i'm like what the? and dude is all weepy and bear hugs me and promises that i won't ever be in that situation again, and i'm like, "aw man!" because i made him CRY and i feel like a crap wife, except that he doesn't really mind crying over me being sad back then, so i stopped feeling like a crap wife and just let myself feel loved, which i am, a lot.

i really like him.