Which is where I should shine, but you so often manage to ruin even that for me. You scrimp and save and work toward some goal — a spa day, a cruise, even just a weekend with the family. Invariably you spend at least half of the time that ought to be consumed with pleasure and sensation dreading the return to work, the arrival of the bill. The benefit to me is that the angst-riddled person is most likely to seize on whatever next delight I proffer. Still, the cycle is exhausting. I’d love for you to choose my path for its own sake and actually breathe the air there for a moment. The beauties
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Relatable
