You know the person who hops in your car to run errands. The person who tells you to buy those Goodwill shorts because they are only $4. The person who let’s you crawl into their dorm bed and cry yourself to sleep because you’ve had a bad day. That’s my best friend, and today, June 11, is her birthday.
Go Shawty, It’s Your Birthday
As we get older, birthdays don’t mean as much. The years add up and eventually, we are all just stretching for retirement. The American Dream: where we are conditioned into believing that working a daily 9-5 for only 10 years of freedom at age 65 is the ultimate goal. That’s a bigger scam than “your car’s warranty has expired.” Anyways, I digress. Tangible gifts of “Friends Are Family” ceramic plates or lotions from Bath & Body are a staple in congratulating our friends on another trip around the sun. Of course, that birthday selfie too. (Wow, who stepped in my cheerios this morning.) The gifts mentioned above are always appreciated and a great reminder of friendship, the act of truly caring for another’s wellbeing. Friends are family, most definitely, and the bottle of coconut moisturizer reminds us of our memories made in South Padre or beachside on the Missouri River. (Canada, eh?) I’m not trying to undersell those gifts but what happened in our society to the gift of giving? The gift of giving your time via phone call, over supper, or through years of unconditional support of changing behaviors.
That’s My Main Chick
Morgan does not expect a ceramic plate. She doesn’t ask people to spend more money than they have to, especially on her but what she does ask for is respect. She doesn’t settle for low pay or under performance. She works her tail off juggling multiple jobs (S/O to Catching Fireflies for the day off), and she has a can-do attitude that inspires me each day. (Keep sending those workout pics, sis! They’re my inspiration!) As the "oopsy daisy" in my family, I learned to be independent which led to a "poor me" attitude as I grew older. That was until Room 355 in Young Hall opened my eyes to other habits, heart breaks and successes. Now, I cannot go a day without Morgan's relative feedback on my lifestyles. Are these shorts too short? How do I grill salmon? Should I stop talking to him? She’s the unwavering care, second sister, I never knew I needed. The humble when I get a little too wild. The bottle when I think I need a glass. The ear when my mouth flaps too much. The phone call on a walk home. The Mary Ann to my Wanda. Most importantly, the best to my friend.
Thank you for picking me up when I'm feeling down, and allowing Tanner and I to lead you to the Zoo on a Thursday evening.
Happy Birthday, Best Friend.
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