There are only three places at the local breakfast place where I can sit with any mental stability, and somehow on a Wednesday morning they are all taken, because this morning isn’t already a mental stability shitshow for me.
The unsupported use case of Bix Frankonis’ disordered, surplus, mediocre midlife in St. Johns, Oregon.
Read the current manifesto. (And the followup.)
Rules: no fear, no hate, no thoughtless bullshit, and no nazis.
There are only three places at the local breakfast place where I can sit with any mental stability, and somehow on a Wednesday morning they are all taken, because this morning isn’t already a mental stability shitshow for me.