I have two weeks off. Yahoo! I made a list (ok a spreadsheet) of my plans for each day. This seemed like an excellent time,
Doctor: Your cortisol levels are literally off the chart; they are showing major stress. What’s going on? Is work crazy? Me: No, I’m black. Like
My mom had this thing. She could make my brother and me behave with just a look. I thought it was a thing all mothers
I quit. I’m out. Peace y’all. I spent the week asking what will people think, will I be letting my group down, does this mean
The quickest way to observe me melt down is a situation in which I think I have control, but I don’t. I pulled the chain
I started cello lessons in February. My playing tortures the cello. I am awful; one in every five notes is correct, the rest is caterwauling.