Stress


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At this present moment, I feel like one of those women, who wear far too much makeup and with the daily wear and tear, devlop fissure like cracks in their face. Not because I have excessive makeup on, but I feel sometimes, like my stress-free, happy-person, I Can Do Anything attitudes wears very, very thin. And I can feel the wrinkles forming around my eyes, I can feel the cardiovascular disease creeping on and I can feel the headaches piling on.

There are times, when I feel I Just Can Not Take It Anymore. What Have I Gotten Myself Into. Where Do I Go From Here. Who Has The Vodka And Pills. Are There Any Near-By Bridges.


Who Has The Makeup Remover.


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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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