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If you're like me, I imagine Melinda blindsided you with some out-of-no-where comment about how you’re “constantly projecting yourself onto other people.”
These symptoms could be from a directed energy attack or because you are fifty-ish and careening headlong toward "the big change."
Is the desolate fucking melancholy setting in yet? That was a rhetorical question. Sorry. I need a new job.
I will still go to the farmer’s market, but I will definitely be glancing at the sky and looking for anything that looks like it might crash into me.
While you were busy arguing about whether or not I’m still in style, did you ever stop to consider my feelings?
There is a powerful part of me that needs, for just one night a year, some very specific, humiliating things from an outlaw rebel ghost.
"I only had two glasses of wine with dinner." Ah, ah, ah. Correction: you had two AND A HALF glasses of wine.
If you’ve stuck around for the past few years, we want to thank you from the bottom of our hearts, and also ask you how and why you did such a thing.
All that changed when a (unnamed for legal purposes) billionaire “superhero” with no powers showed up and asked me to join his superhero team.
Crying Pods: 70% of employees also reported participating in, during this past year, a daily ritual of “crying my pretty little eyes out.”
You know what I think? They didn't get it... Yes, they just didn't get it. They let a masterpiece slip away, right under their nose.
Teaching has a way of working you down to the bone. And, frankly, I’m tired. Bone tired.