We’ll, uh, have to circle back.
You all just want my calming, British voice to tell you that everything is going to be OK.
2020 has been my year so far, and I’m not wasting a moment.
Sales tax holiday weekend came, and now we’re staring down a God damn Everest of tampons stockpiled in our living rooms.
This bike, like my life, is a glistening, upper-middle-class prison.