Probably going to title my memoir “One Day in the Life of Rori Costellovich”.  And it will be about today.  The longest day of my life.

It will begin with when the dumb bitch at Starbucks made my vanilla latte at least ten degrees too cold, and conclude with me gouging out my own eyes with a Pilot V5 Finepoint pen to avoid reading one more word about American noncompliance with the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations.

Comparatively speaking, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn knew very little about human suffering.

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