Gold

I read this somewhere online, and I don’t think I saved it anywhere, which is a bummer.

It’s a little poem that goes something like this:

We want someone who treats us like we’re gold. We settle for someone who treats us like we’re silver, and then we wonder why we tarnish.

—

Happy weekend! 

My weekend plans involve nursing a sore finger back to health. It’s kind of weird to make a blog post about a finger, so I’ll just throw you a little life lesson right here.

Don’t bite your fingernails. You’ll end up on antibiotics and in pain so bad, you won’t be able to sleep.

Over a finger.

As the doctor put it: “It’s not the lamest thing I’ve seen today. I treated a blister before you.”

Right now I’m thankful for doctors and antibiotics. 

And fingers.