This February I will celebrate my second anniversary to a shoulder injury. Why a source of joy you may ask? Do let me explain.
On that cold winter morning, I was viciously attacked by a case of french fries while taking it down from a stack of boxes that towered high above my head (safety on the job is an entirely different story.) Mad and hurt, I was removed from physical labor. At first, I had no idea what I was going to do.
Now two years later, I am surrounded by stacks of 8-1/2" x 11" sheets of white paper, all decorated with adventurous descriptions of a teenage girl named Emily.
Life is what you make, and life is good.
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