Ten.One Thousand, Five Hundred & Seventy-Five
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A better night of sleep.
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The colder it gets, the longer the walks to the bathroom.
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We get the kids to school early enough to have some quiet before she comes. I tell him that I miss these kinds of mornings…the slow mornings.
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Incense, coffee, soft light coming in through the windows.
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But in no way will I allow them to take this away from me.
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I grind the spices for the Cubeb Spiced Shortbread. I weigh the risk and rewards of truthtelling. There is just as much harm in silence.
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We squeeze in a few minutes with the neighbors and drink a little bit of wine. It is getting dark and cold.
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There are a lot of people here and it makes me a little uncomfortable.
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I sometimes forget that I have no poker face.
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Just when I was getting better.