A moment of gratitude: secret police haven’t yet kicked me in the kidneys and thrown me in a stuffy basement. I’m also not working in a blood diamond mine. But then there’s my car, steadily depreciating. Eternal check engine light on the dash. Rusted exhaust pipe, a crescendo of clanking parts like tribal drums at a ritual sacrifice. Splash guard on the ground and front bumper gone. Dolorous wagon of one; I won’t let anyone else ride. Last time I changed the oil we had a different president.
It’s easier to be strong for someone (or something) else than for yourself. In fact being strong for someone else is a great way to handle your weakness.
It’s easier to be strong for someone (or something) else than for yourself. In fact being strong for someone else is a great way to handle your weakness.