what’s next
Let’s take the future out of the questions.
In gratitude for friendships, old and new.
It took a year for me to understand what a black artist was trying to convey. I’m so glad I didn’t give up trying to figure it out.
My journey to wellness hit a bump. When I should have been rejoicing, I was terrified.
My options for ordering take out dwindle as terrible customer service strikes again. I refuse to spend good money on bad experiences.
Watching this pandemic unfold is stressful. But I cannot look away.
I believe in words. I believe that words have meaning. Not just implied or assumed, but actual standardized definitions. Imagine
Women reclaim their voices with #MeToo, and men need to learn to respect the power of women.
Customer service is a dying art. And I’m in mourning.