Every time I open up a certain closet here at work, the smell totally sends me back to my grandparents' house. I think it's the mothballs. The smell is just incredibly reminiscent of that house.
All I wanted was another box of tissues but I got some lovely memories as well.
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I was actually able to get to sleep last night, but I remember waking up at least once during the night to my husband saying, "It's okay, hon. It's just a bad dream. It's okay."
I wonder why I'm still so tired today then?
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Has anyone seen my motivation? I seem to have misplaced it.
Edited to add: I found it! It was in my afternoon dose of Ritalin! *grin*
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