Bleary-eyed, I’m shuffling off to the kitchen, the belt of my fluffy gray bathrobe dragging on the ground behind me. I shudder to think of all the dust it’s collecting, but I lack the energy to tie it.
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Wielding my trusty Xacto knife like a sword, this brave knight clad in a suit of, well, pajamas, plunges it deep into
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Waiting for my car to be smog checked, I stoop to collect heart-shaped leaves from the sidewalk. I didn’t select this particular
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Stabbing at the hardpan soil like the madwoman I surely am, tears stream down my cheeks as I endure another episode of
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