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I hate being cold!

I hate being cold.

I mean, I really hate it.

It deters me from personal improvement–and that’s a fragile commitment as it is.

Drafty floors and Yoga?  75 more words

Hey, Dad in the Red Sweater

It happens every Friday between 9 and 10 AM. And if I sigh a little, I try to remember where I came from. Another time. 805 more words

Baby Boomer Generation