I'm in the post-holiday funk and feeling terribly homesick for New York (mainly Rochester), and of course I'm not sleeping very well because my mind is going a mile-a-minute. And you know what? I am pissed as fuck as my aunt
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A therapist I knew once would suggest writing her a letter, pouring it all out, then setting the letter on fire (or doing whatever seems appropriate to you). She NEVER will see your point of view in your way because she is herself. Consider that as her punishment, if you will.
I'm a blog lurker (starting reading you when you posted on fatshionista), delurking to ask, you okay? I hate when blogs I read go dark. Hope all is well.
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