Monday, February 3, 2014


The threshold upon which I lose my composure comes earlier and earlier.  Last week, I could at least hold it together until 3:30, and then I could pull myself through by telling myself that I only had an hour left.  I am doing that thing that John Green talks about so thoroughly in The Fault in Our Stars when I feel it coming, look up, swallow and sniff a lot, trying to choke it back.  But it always wins and I always lose.

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