Scaramucci’s 10-day tenure as communications director of the White House is survived by that weird crick in your neck you’ve had since last week, your most recent pedicure, your most recent manicure save for a few chips on your index fingers which everyone agrees is to be expected, the 8-pack box of Nature Valley ™ granola bars at your cubicle, the soap scum on your toilet rim from the last time you washed it, the gallon of almond milk you bought a couple weeks ago, the farmer’s tan from your July 4th sunburn, the silent treatment your nephew’s been giving you since you told him you didn’t like The Emoji Movie, the silent treatment your mother’s been giving you since you told her you got back together with Greg, the leftover coffee in that travel mug on your nightstand, the amount of time that’s passed since you last shaved your legs, the extra pork roast in the back of the fridge that you forgot about until now, the average uneaten fruitcake which might as well be every fruitcake, the Twin Peaks promotional poster you drunkenly bought last weekend and haven’t yet decided to throw away, the gnawing feeling in your stomach that Greg’s not being entirely faithful, that one clump of mascara in the corner of your eye that won’t go away no matter how many times you blink and flush your eye with solution, the knot in your left bra strap that cropped up last week and doesn’t seem to want to undo itself, the gas in your car from the last time you filled up the tank, just barely the amount of time that’s passed since you and Greg tried and failed to play a strategy-based board game without ending the night by passive aggressively going to bed at staggered times and sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, the amount of time that’s passed since you last conditioned your hair, half of the amount of time that’s passed since you accidentally picked up Greg’s phone and saw a text message from someone named Sarah who you’re pretty sure he’s never mentioned, the average fruit fly, the average dragonfly, the average housefly, the average tub of ricotta cheese, the average leftover lasagna, the average lifespan of a meal made with any kind of cheese, really, the amount of time that’s passed since Greg told you he loves you and the sentiment met his eyes, the pepperoni pizza Lunchable ™ you thought about buying but didn’t and is still sitting near the grocery store’s deli section, that scab on your knee you told Greg you got from rock climbing that you actually got from kneeling in a parking lot to get a quarter that was tails-up but turned out to be a game token, the outcry over David Beinoff and D.B. Weiss’ planned HBO series Confederate, the vestige of a relationship with Greg who you swore was the love of your life just months ago, the amount of time that’s passed since the President of the United States tweeted something that singled out a disenfranchised minority, the average grasshopper, the amount of time you’ll ever put into reading The Hobbit in a single sitting before falling asleep, Scaramucci’s estranged wife and his newborn infant son whom Scaramucci hopes is doing well and will visit really, really soon, he said.
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