“This negativity, this sour orange juice, this “OJ”, this sour OJ… these opinions and judgement that come from a sour dark place.” I had never been wetter. The tweed trapping me in my 9 to 5 were soaked through, sticking me to the upholstery of the ergonomic chairs my bosses paid me to buy for them. Paid me to put together in between picking the cheapest dental plan I could afford to pay into. “Why?” You’re so inquisitive. “What’s good about that?” I peel myself off of the vinyl and strategic...
