If it took seven days to make a living with a restaurant, then we needed to be in some other line of work.
One year, I was a patron of a new opera. It was, to put it kindly, unpleasant to the ear. The friends I went with hated it. Keeping quiet about my contribution, I was outed when one of them, reading the program at the restaurant during dinner, saw my name.
I'm learning with the older that I get that some feelings are just universal and that I'm not the only one who hates their hair or their life at times.
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