Okay, I've decided to come clean. The reason I sit at the kids' table on Thanksgiving is just so I can hide the green bean casserole under my grandson's plate.
I was conceived at a Pink Floyd concert, and while I’ve gone on with my life, my parents are still there waiting for them to finish playing Dark Side of the Moon.
Me: Sometimes when I’m eating string cheese I pretend I’m a medieval torturer trying to get a confession from a prisoner. Therapist: So, anyway, I’m going to double your meds.
Dear Netfix, Thanks for playing all these post apocalyptic pandemic movies where people get infected and eat each other helping lift my spirits knowing that things could always be worse!