It's kind of funny, cause I couldn't give a rat's left testicle about anything that goes on in your life. It's your life and I don't want to be part of it. I had a girlfriend once that made the mistake of jabbering off my ear for about 3 hours about how she managed to break a nail petting a dog and started crying, making me feel guilty. So I drove over to her house and dropkicked her into the TV.
They have people for this sort of thing. It's called a psychiatrist. They help you stop being the nagging sonuvabitch that you are, shake $400 dollars out of you, and send you on your way making you feel more like a failure than you already are. Congratulations, you're a dumbass now.
You think I care what you think? I'd rather see you get run over by a steamroller and piss on your crushed corpse as I attempt a Mexican hat dance complete with maracas.
So the next time you ask me a question, be careful that you don't get a steaming load of pig shit shoveled right back in your face.