Ardmore: Haha. You kill me.

Me: If only I could.

Ardmore: I think we’re getting off topic.

Me: You always say that… Anyway, artists. Why is it that I can’t loop myself in that group?

Ardmore: What does that group look like?

Me: Well, when I think of artists, I think of people who don’t shower…

Ardmore: So far I don’t see why you wouldn’t fit in.

Me: Hilarious. I guess I’d say they are also pretty poor…

Ardmore: Again, you seem to fit in just fine.

Me: They also have a fantastic sense of style…

Ardmore: …

Me: Really?!

Ardmore: What?

Me: Never mind. I don’t know. I think it’s just that maybe I can’t stand this whole attitude of artists. “I feeeeeeel more than you do.” I think I feel a lot, but I think other people do too.

Ardmore: Trust me, you feel twice as much as most people.

Me: I guess I’m just uncomfortable with the word.

Ardmore: I think you need to let that go. Remember how you felt about the word “cuddle” up until the eighth grade?

Me (shivers): Yes.

Ardmore: Well, now, you like cuddling. You even like the word. You liked cuddling with me the other day didn’t you?

Me: Sure, I guess.

Ardmore: That’s what you need to do with “artist.” You like art. You do creative work. You are an artist.

Me: I am an artist?

Ardmore: We are an artist.

Me: Ardmore?

Ardmore: Yes.

Me: How do I get rid of you?

Ardmore: Aaaand it looks like we’re out of time.