Masking hurt with a smile is like putting that thong on over your old Hanes Her Way — it’s uncomfortable for you, and the rest of the world can tell something’s a little off. No way are you smiling normal with that get up.
Yesterday would’ve been my dad’s 64th birthday. An unexpected tradition formed following his unexpected death: I’d have a cherry coke on his subsequent birthdays, toasting to him.
In an uncharacteristic move, I skirted a parking law. A busy downtown resulted in five minutes of driving with no empty spots. The salmon I’m jonesin’ for and had ordered over the phone awaited me in a restaurant across the intersection, catty-corner from my very illegal parking spot. Every space in this certain lot is marked with clear signage that non-building patrons, AKA violators, will be towed.
Because we’re less than halfway through winter — a stretch when seasonal depression and cabin fever take root, CTJ is adding happy to the potentially crappy via a giveaway!
