Some days the price stickers don’t come easily off anything.
Those are the trying days.
Those are the days you think about giving up.
But you don’t.
You put on your Big Boy Go-To-Hell Pants, you dig out the Goo Gone, and you scrub and you scrape and you tear that sticky pulp off like some retail therapy band-aid designed to save the world.
Or at least your little world, in this one very particular little moment of absolute ludicrousness, like this entire ridiculous post where any and al humor will be completely lost upon the masses.
First world problems until I move to the third world.
