Dear future hubster,
I'm afraid this eternal summer is turning me into a demanding little thing in sime regards.
If it rains for three days (which it has, recently), I become a whiny zombie, wanting to curl up on the sofa with a blanket and hot chocolate, wondering if the world is coming to an end and why nobody likes me, blasting Travis and Tom Waits in alternance.
I'm afraid this eternal summer is turning me into a demanding little thing in sime regards.
If it rains for three days (which it has, recently), I become a whiny zombie, wanting to curl up on the sofa with a blanket and hot chocolate, wondering if the world is coming to an end and why nobody likes me, blasting Travis and Tom Waits in alternance.
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