I sometimes wake up screaming.
I'm scarred forever.
But I will bravely go forward and risk the stability of my psyche by offering to cook biscuits and muffins in the field once again.
Who knows? It might give me some closure.
Its always about you.
Nobody hears my sobbing in the night. Nobody sees the tears staining my hammock.
Just add milk
So Zort is bringing breakfast for Saturday morning.
Take it easy,