beginning in the middle of something
It's 10:00am. I'm sitting at my kitchen table in a summer dress and Ugg boots, the kind that were trendy my middle school years, with a protein shake, a script, and a sweater keeping my company on the tabletop. The heater is running and I'm this close to baking some sort of pastry nonsense. For all intents and purposes, things should be great. But, none of this is how I'd like it. I'm not wearing what I want to be wearing. I'm not drinking what I want to be drinking. I don't