The cold morning air scratches your throat with each labored breath. It is as if you are swallowing a handful of thumb tacks or maybe a really strong and bad shot of tequila with each gasp. This is not the thick
In the old days, it was pretty much do it that waterfall way or the highway, and I usually just opted for careening down the expressway flying by the seat of my pants and winging it by dealing with the loudest and most urgent thing and proceeding from there via subconscious guilt and n...