Today I succumbed to Facebook pressure and posted 25 things about myself. And, of course, as soon as I posted it, I thought of 25 other things that were far more interesting. I hate stuff like that.
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No matter how many times I pull the vacuum over on myself when I use the hand wand, I continue to get down on my knees and pull the vacuum by the wand, and get wanked over the head or in the back with the vacuum that is falling over on me.
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When B's parents come to visit, instead of cleaning something obvious, like the counter beside my computer that always looks dumpy, or dusting the bookshelves, or wiping the food off the front of the refrigerator, I go and organize something like my laundry room that they'll never step foot in.
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For all my talk about gross carpet, I think I kind of like having gross carpet. I hated never being able to eat in front of the TV when I was a kid because my parents always worried about the carpet. (Right now Mom or Dad is saying something like, "it wasn't the carpet; it was general cleanliness." but I know it was the carpet.)
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For all my talk about weaning TT, I still just keep giving in.
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I weigh the same as I did when I was a junior in high school. I see photos of myself then and I looked great. I hate my body just as much now as I did then. I wonder what I was thinking then. I wonder what I'll think of myself 16 years from now.
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I'm beginning to fear that I'm like the people in Wall-E that are so busy looking at the screen in front of their faces, they don't realize the life that they're missing.
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I eat at ten o'clock at night. Not becasuse I'm hungry but because when I'm pregnant I'm hungry and it has become habit. A bad habit.
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