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I had some low-sodium miso soup…

It needed salt.

I’m not saying this in a pithy way, though I’m quite certain I can’t help but be pithy—it’s a curse!—but I mean it genuinely. The soup is not a symbol. It’s actual soup. And the salt is not a metaphor. It’s actual salt. Or lack of.

Also, man did I have a day. I had a 4/5’s kind of day which is where 4/5’s of the conversations you have are good and 1/5 make you want to shove a pencil in your eye. But I mean 1/5 of each conversation. Not 1/5 of the people I talked to. Except now that I think about it, I had some perfectly fine conversations. But a couple doozies. I could tell you, but I think these people read my blog. So in that case, yes, I’m talking about you. Unless I’m not.

I’m probably not. God, what the hell am I saying?

I don’t know but I’d rather be looking at puggles.

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