afternoon stop at the popcorn shop in wheaton. i know nellie appreciates this.
I do. And guess what? I never hated Wheaton in high school. I only kind of hate it now. But not entirely. The margin between that feeling and my entire capacity for love can only be called “Santa Cruz.”
Sometimes I forget that other people on the Internet have been to Wheaton. It always seems like a place that stops existing as long as I don’t think about it.
