One of These Things is Not Like the Others…
Throughout my life, I’ve always felt… a little out-of-place.
A lot out-of-place.
From the time a boy named Jason puked on me after the mile run in 6th grade (I still don’t feel clean), to my bespectacled, brace-faced,
I’ll give you a hint.
Maybe — maybe – it’s the fact that I’m the only person whose city needed to be followed by the state name for clarification.
Maybe because Sanford is not really a city, but more like a town with a Waffle House and a Cracker Barrel.
But you know what?
Since feeling out of place makes me feel in place, I’m going to take this as a positive sign. If I can’t go to the Big City to get a job, I’ll make the Big City job come to me.
I think this could work.