I admit it. I complain a lot. Sometimes I don’t realize I am doing it until I see the look of confusion on my husband’s face. Bless his heart, he doesn’t know what to do about the coworker who makes me angry, the fact that there are not enough hours in the day, my...
I am not sure how I ended up crying in front of a shelf of taco shells and carb-control tortillas holding a copy of Woman’s World magazine. Nevertheless, there I stood, weepy and alone, in the middle of the grocery aisle at the Santa Rosa Safeway. My heart fluttered...
I didn’t even use a fork. I shoveled pieces of the coconut layer cake into my mouth with one hand, while gripping the steering wheel with the other. It was the first time I gave in to a sugar craving to this extent. Never had I ever put my bra back on at the end of...
My husband and I watch reruns of Friday Night Lights, a drama television series about a high school football team in rural West Texas. It is our “go-to” show when we cannot find anything else to watch, which means we watch it a minimum of five times a week. We have...
