About a week ago I started watching How to Get Away with Murder on Netflix. Within the week I finished the first season. I decided to watch it after hearing amazing reviews, Viola Davis’ Emmy acceptance speech, and Netflix showing it as something I “might” like only about a million times. I think it’s a great show.
When I walk by a woman on my path from my son’s school to my work or back again, I think nothing of it. Sometimes I might think, hey that’s a cute shirt or holy cow how does she walk in those shoes, but there isn’t much to it. Every once in a while I might wonder about
Reason 49,583 he’s just like me. “I did my book presentation today but I talked way too fast. That’s what my teacher said. I talked too fast because I was nervous. I gave myself an F.” You gave yourself an F just for talking too fast? “Yeah. We had to grade each other and ourselves.”
In a couple of weeks, my son will be the “Star of the Week” at school. There’s a poster they fill out and decorate. They get special perks. They get a chance to be celebrated in class. It’s all good fun. Today T came home with his poster already mostly filled out. His week is coming
I come from a family filled with people with back problems. So I’m just going to go ahead and blame my DNA for all the issues I’ve been experiencing the last couple of weeks that have culminated with me going to Urgent Care last weekend and being unable to go to work for the past couple of days. I’m