Not that I am a prolific poster at the best of times, but if anyone has noticed that I have been somewhat terse the past couple of weeks, that's because I've spent most of that time trying to think of something to say beyond paraphrasing Arthur Dent: "So this is it. I'm going to die."
The day after my annual mammogram, I got a call from the
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*offers hugs*
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It all sounded very familiar; I had a similar experience some years ago, and you're right: that table with the hole in it is just weird, and the little voice is annoying
So tell your little voice from me to hush up now.
Amaryllis
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