'Troublesome Neighbors'

I wrote this short story in one of my fiction writing classes in college, and it's one of the only stories I've enjoyed writing this much.  Don't judge me too harshly for that.  It's not one of my lighter ones.  Here's my favorite sloth picture to make up for it.<img src='    http://www.kaiodee.com/sites/kaiodee.com/files/Baby-Sloth-and-girl.jpg' width=400px />-------------------------------------------------------------------------TROUBLESOME NEIGHBORSThe first wave of cinnamon scent hit Anna as she pulled out the tray and set it on the checkered countertop.  Snickerdoodles.

'My Poor Mother'

So, I’ve been re-reading every single post that Allie Brosh (http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/) has ever written, because she is honestly the main reason I decided starting a humorous blog would be fun.  Though it has had a decidedly negative effect on my productivity, especially my attempts to start cussing less, I cannot and do not wish to stop.  I also don’t care if people who read this blog post leave me for Allie Brosh and never come back.  I love having readers, but Brosh is simply too awesome to even try to resist.

'I have the BESTWORSTSADDESTSILLIEST job in the world'

I’ve had so many jobs by now (at the venerable age of 21) that I tend to forget all about some of them.  Every once in a while, I’ll drive past somewhere I used to work, like Applebee’s, and think “Oh, wait!  I know that place!  I hated that place!  I should maybe forget about it again!”  And then I do.  On top of those jobs, I’ve had whole bunches of random volunteer jobs, that everyone said I should take so that in THE MAGNIFICENT FUTURE WHEN ALL MY AMAZING POTENTIAL WOULD BE REALIZED,     I would have something to fill up that blank, glaring white of my resume.

My Pets are Starting to Creep Me Out

I am technically a pre-veterinarian student, and I’ve been working at veterinary clinics for close to 3 years now.  Needless to say, I have seen my fair share of house pets, and they’ve run the whole gamut of characters:  happy, crochety, gross, fastidious, hyper, lazy, ditzy, dignified, and even some neurotics.  I’ve loved it, on a whole, and can’t say I’d prefer to be doing anything else with my life.

The Horrors of Technology

Or, more specifically, the horrors of texting.  When I avoided texting throughout most of high school, I began to feel rather deprived and put-upon, though I also took a strange bit of pride from my own technological backwardness.  I thought "Haha, world!  Look at me ignoring you!  I will chop my own wood, I will write with a quill and ink, and I will not use this newfangled communication called texting!!!"    Sometimes, even now, my weird friends think I'm odd.    Anyways, I finally got into texting when Mom put us on a phone plan that offered that feature, and I was quickly hooked.

The Art of Defensive Dancing

I've become at least moderately proficient in quite a few dances in my lifetime.  Mainly, I'm a swing dancer, but I also dabble in salsa and a variety of ballroom dances.  I even get a kick out of the polka now and then.    But as classy as I think that repertoire sounds now, that's not where I learned to dance in my formative years.  By the time I reached my latter high school years, I was fully devoted to the appeal of club dancing, and the idea of "keeping it classy"didn't stand a chance.

The Thing About Medication

I am an excellent student. I have a steady job as a veterinary assistant, I pay most of my bills on time, and I remember to wash my laundry at least once a month.  However, don’t let this lackluster personal assessment fool you—I am not an amazing adult.  I am not all there.  I doubt I ever will be.  And so it is that sometimes the most simple, and yet most crucial, things in my life go unheeded.     Take medication, for example.  It must be taken continuously, at a predetermined time, and the bottle will not magically refill itself when it has emptied.

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