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Playing 'Did I take a photo of this wine bottle b/c I liked the wine or b/c I liked the label font?' Also known as The Douchiest Game Ever.
Proustian flashback: Apparently "5 degrees and slightly hungover" is my quintessential living-in-Boston sense memory. Sounds about right.
Husband's standard packing list includes food for me in case I get, quote, crangry. I'd be mad if it weren't so sensible.
It's not so much a 'work week' as a cyclical period in which all my clothes migrate from my closet to live in a heap on a chair.
Yes, hello, I'm trying to reach the Institute of Do You Wear Boots Over Or Under Corduroys. It's urgent.
d) Because if you do not believe your life is worth documenting, or knowing about, then why are you wasting your time/our time? Our air?