Down the Rabbit hole
I love to sing. For as far back as I can remember, I’ve been holding nightly bathroom concerts, belting out ballads during bubble baths to an audience of nonjudgmental shampoo bottles.
I have “performed” once in my life. A coach at my high school gave me, a 15-year-old freshman, an ultimatum: sing and you and your classmates get the rest of the hour in the gym. Don’t and you’r…
