3
BRANTLEY
One week of practice was done, and so was one week of kitchen renovation. I wasn’t sure which was harder. The huffing and puffing of the runners at the end of the week was enough to vote for practice, but my own huffing and puffing when I muscled the last of my kitchen cabinets to the trash said maybe the renovation took the top spot.
Either way, both sucked.
So did spending my Friday night, the last one of summer, alone in my empty kitchen. My life was not what I always hoped it would be. It was my own fault, but it was hard to know nothing had turned out like I’d hoped.
I pushed the melancholy thoughts aside and surveyed the empty space. It was huge without everything in it. Nice problem to have. And with the entire kitchen torn out, down to the studs, I was ready to star
