There’s a legend that states Ernest Hemingway once submitted a story to a newspaper that was holding a contest for the saddest six word story. Supposedly it read: “For sale. Baby shoes, never worn.” He won.
This has never been proven, and while it is indeed depressing, I know a sadder one.

I depend on Chick-fil-a. I know I will never be disappointed in my lunch if I get it there. They are to be depended on for the best chicken, fries, peach milkshakes, chicken tortilla soup….the list goes on and on. I know that I can count on them to not screw up my order. When I desire perfection in fast food, I go to Chick-fil-a.

They are so much more than chicken.
They are the embodiment of the American Dream.

I don’t know how I’m expected to do without them for five whole weeks. I’ll go crazy. I nominate myself to oversee construction and if I notice anybody slackin’, I can crack the whip and yell on my megaphone. I’ll run a tight ship for sure. I can push a wheelbarrow!! I can spackle! I can call for loads of concrete and drag wire. We can get this done in like, four days, tops.



I am so SAD.