It was a rare day off in the middle of the work week.
What to do? What to do?
My husband had called dibs on the computer and I had already caught up on the antics of the Real Housewives of both New York and New Jersey.
The only thing left to do was go out and get into a fight.
Actually, fighting topped my list, trumping reading online pop culture blogs, trumping even shopping for clothes I don’t need.
Beyond anything else I felt the need to fight — fight for peace, for the shalom of my soul.
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