This morning, I peered at my baggy, blood-shot eyes in the bathroom mirror. It had been a rough night. Thanks to wild fluctuations in my peri-menopausal hormones, which are apparently in the throes of death, my hair was a rat’s nest of sweaty tangles…
Weird habits I picked up during pandemic monotony
“Honey,” my retired Navy husband woke me this morning with a steaming cup of coffee — a sweet routine he started since he began working from home last March — “I just transferred money into your account because you’re twenty bucks in the red. … please … just don’t buy any more stock, okay?”