“That’s right, the fifty-piece.
Pain resonated from every movement as I moved through the TSA line.
Mix two parts general ignorance with three parts garage-sale barbecue.
Rationality says get up, but my atrophied muscles ask who gives a shit.
All-I-could-gorge Ponderosa had been the play.
Days off had been scarce.
I’m happy to set the bar low.
Opening presents isn't always a pleasurable experience.