Suburgatory
Parking in the furthest spot away in the parking lot is not scratching my walking-everywhere-itch.
Word of the Year
Those words came to me in what felt like divine inspiration.
Santa’s Pub
At almost every song choice, someone is yelling “THIS IS A GREAT SONG!!!”
You’re on Your Own, Kid
No one else can carry me to the finish line.
Football Saturdays
It’s only 7:30 a.m., but there’s already a buzz in the air.
In My Unhinged Era
From our post, we could see the full big screen and hear the entire concert. Were we standing in a tree and getting hit in the face with branches? Absolutely.
Overstimulated
I type fast, scroll fast, work fast.
Lonely City
I can see her potted plants, and I wonder how they survive since she’s never there to water them.
Missing Christmas Magic
Where was the magic in saltines and Gatorade for dinner, in spiking fevers and loneliness? Where was the magic in canceled flights and missed wedding celebrations?
Hallowed Bluegrass Hall
On every guitar case and appliance in sight were collections of stickers from anything and everywhere.
