Sitting in a dingy waiting area of an auto body shop which consists of three folding chairs and a stack of battered romance novels feeling guilty for my poor car getting its oil changed at 2400 miles over the number recommended on the sticker in the top left hand corner of my windshield.
I will never be the person who changes their oil on time.
I’m trying not to consider this a personality flaw.
Instead, I will always be the person who remembers your face, and asks if you need more wine.
I will offer to help with the dishes after dinner and it won’t be just a hollow gesture.
Be as kind to yourself as you are to everyone else.
Why is this so hard to remember?
And because it’s 4/30 and I can’t help myself: