The word "oops" has many connotations. For instance, one might say it when they spill some water on the floor, or they could quietly mutter it when they're cutting someone's hair. Unfortunately, it was the latter that caused the "oops" I heard today.
Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I, like many other people around the world, have been cooped up inside my house for the past week and want nothing more than to avoid thinking about the widespread disease. The problem is that it's quite difficult to avoid it when there seems to be a new negative development described in detail every time I go online. And while I do hope to write more uplifting things in the future, it's honestly been too tough to switch from my negative headspace to a creative one this week.
Oh, hello there! I didn't notice you come into my kitchen. But since you're already here, why don't you grab a seat and join me while I prepare some delicious food! That, ladies and gentlemen, is how I imagine I would start my cooking show if the Food Network would ever get around to greenlighting my pilot. And yes, I would feign surprise at my guest's arrival every single episode. Anyway, on to the matter at hand.
I did something unforgettable in the spring of 2013. No, I didn't write an earth-shattering exposé about the plight of refugees in the Middle East. I wish that I had done something that was memorable in such a positive way, but this was unforgettable in the worst way.
I did not mention this in my introductory post, but one of the activities that I plan to add to my overall life experiences is the sport of downhill skiing. I had the random idea at some point during the semester that I wanted to become a skier, so with only one time ever skiing under …