October will always suck. always. I truly believe I die a little bit each October. It doesn’t help that I perpetuate the torment– by dragging out the “evidence” book, re-reading he said/she said/he said “testimonials,” matching receipts to dates on a yellowed calendar from yesteryear.
One of these days, I’ll die– for real. May it be the month of F*ctober.
(I wouldn’t want it any other way)
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