My friend Stephanie just emailed me. She's going back to work at the grocery store where we first met, the job that built us up, and broke us one by one.

This is the job that, when I walked out at 5am one morning, I said I would rather roll in broken glass and let a rabid dog lick my wounds before I would come back.

I'm surprised, because I'm actually envious of her. On some levels.

I miss how much fun I had there, how great it was to "hold up the service counter" (i.e., stand around and talk). I don't miss the bullshit politics, but it was a moment in my life that I wouldn't take back for anything. I've written about it before in this post.

Good luck, Steph. Just remember the lessons we've already paid for in blood.