Monologue, hold the onions.

Drama will be the death of me, I swear it.

Last week, we had to write two sentences directed toward someone we either loved unconditionally, or drove us completely insane. I chose my mother. Then we had to write a monologue, using the two sentences as a starter. My monologue is less of a monologue and more of a hate rant about my mother. I had no idea that I had so much inner torment. Okay, maybe I did, but I didn't think it would all come out in a drama project. I'm hungry. I need food. Hell, I need a sandwich and some heavy therapy.