The past few years, I’ve missed my Papa Joe most during Thanksgiving. Best cook. Best man I’ve never known. Best everything.
Two years ago, I worked my first holiday at the shelter. Gabriel and I snuck off to Mariana’s, on the clock, and ate tons of beef barbacoa and cantelope juice. When we got back I let all my dogs out of their cages to run around the room for a few hours.
Last year, I had just gotten fired from Ann Road. Areej was here. Whatever. Pretend I typed an inauthentic winking face here.
My family had Thanksgiving dinner last night. I invited Boi over and she was super appreciative and even more interested in my family. Particularly the fact that there was five generations at the table. Ben didn’t have the kids so we drank champagne and watched westerns all night.
I tried to sleep in this morning but I woke up early, still full from last night and rambling with nostalgia.
Krystyna invited me over for dinner tonight. Her and her family are awesome, for the record.
I’m thankful every day for my nephew, my dog, and my cats who I hold in higher regard than most people and make me ridiculously, unequivocally happy. I’m thankful every day for the people that have stuck around and made me a better person just by being around them. I’m thankful every day that I still feel like the same kid I was five and ten years ago. I’m thankful every day that I’ve made it this far.
