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Dwelling

I tend to dwell.

I dwell a lot.

Insomnia tends to exacerbate the issue.

Unfortunately, I tend to give myself tasty hunks of stupid to dwell on quite a lot, dammit.

Tonight, however, I get to dwell on more than just my lameness because my husband just made “Man Cleavage” to cheer me up. Uh…It didn’t work. Actually, it made me vomit a little in my mouth.

Great. Now I’m going to add how wrong hairy, man-boobs are to my “To-Dwell” list.

Bleck.