F. Scott Peck once wrote: "Life is difficult." He was right.
I'm not sure I understand "happiness." In fact, I know I don't.
I am not a number. I am a person of worth. Reducing me to a number (or a mistake I've made) erases my intelligence, sense of humor, charisma, sensitivity, compassion, empathy, and... my soul. I have value even if others don't see that. My exterior is not the same as my interior. Judging books by covers is still wrong. I prefer to not be part of publicized drama. I'm not into pity-parties although others may be. I'll get up every day, do my job, try to love my daughters as much as I can, and try to improve my life and the lives of those whose paths I
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