You sit there at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering, “What’s Chip Zdarsky up to?” You turn in bed to face me, but my back is to you as always. It’s cold in the room. Too cold. So, you pull out your phone, hoping the light doesn’t wake me...
You sit there at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering, “What’s Chip Zdarsky up to?” You turn in bed to face me, but my back is to you as always. It’s cold in the room. Too cold. So, you pull out your phone, hoping the light doesn’t wake me because you know the first thing I do when I wake is cry.