So I like to write on holidays because it's neat to look back and see what I was doing on that day each year. However, I rarely manage to write on the actual holiday. Inspiration usually comes the day after
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What was depressing? It was nice. I got to sleep late, and my boyfriend washed my car for me. I even cooked dinner! What on earth is depressing? Besides the fact that I discovered chickpeas and broccoli together give me a stomachache?
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