The teeth need to be taken care of. Like, stat.
The guy is in a mood.
I am bleeding.
I am tired, overwhelmed by the scope of my job, but looking forward to being paid.
I yearn to be able to just put aside these facts and enjoy a bit of whimsical wordplay, but right now, there just doesn’t seem to be even a tiny mouse hole to crawl into to get there. So I can push and get it powder, or I can agree to try again. Knowing that the aversion is the problem, not me.
The aversion is the problem. Not me.