Something to read as I work on my next novel.
I am not what they would call a tall drink of water. I’m more of a … shot glass.
5’2. Tiny feet. Loud voice. You know, the typical symptoms of nearing-dwarfism.
If you didn’t know, here are seven signs that you are legitimately a short person. If you have all of these, drag up a step-stool and join the club, friend!
Continue reading ➞ 10 Signs You Are Legitimately A Short Person
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Mondays suck.
The alarm sounds. You rip your eyelids open. And instead of a day filled with cookies, long naps, and TV, you have to crawl out from under your toasty warm bedsheets and go to the eight hour dungeon called work.
Work that forces you to shower, brush your teeth, and do your makeup—all on a day that you really don’t want to.
That is Monday.
I am convinced that certain horrors only occur on Mondays. Tiny irritations that make you throw your head back and groan. And they start at the stroke of twelve.
I don’t Black Friday shop. Being five-foot-two, I have never had the desire to be trampled into a human pancake, black heel imprints on my forehead.
I work hard to clear up the skin on my forehead. I don’t want footprints on it. Acne products are expensive, man.
However, Friday (yes, The Friday, Black Friday, the big kahoona), giddy from getting my hair done, I waltzed to my nearest Best Buy, blissfully unaware of the ugly shopper’s flurry that surrounded me.
