The day has not started out well. My socks don’t really match my slacks (that’s what happens when you get dressed in the dark) and now Zany and I are wandering aimlessly up 51st Street looking for a food truck that seems to have vanished.
We’re off our game. We’re hungry. We’re lost, and we just might be suffering from seasonal affective disorder.
“Mad Me-Shell would never have gotten lost
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