My back is killing me. I’ve been too stubborn to ask anyone for a massage–something I’ve desperately needed for weeks. It’s my own fault. Sitting up straight at my new job combined with running has left me in knots. And now that I’m ready to ask for help, the reality of living alone has set in. When I leave the office no one will be at home to care for me–even if I were to ask for it.
Sandy, I miss you. Come live with me.