and now, for an abrupt change of subject
There's a toothbrush in my bathroom that is most certainly not mine. It belongs to a boy, who has left it there in a supposedly inadvertent attempt to mark his territory. It keeps looking at me like it wants a fight.It's been there for several days now, and every time it catches my eye, I stop and stare for a moment. It's like a showdown between me and the toothbrush. The toothbrush knows the rules--personal hygiene items are not allowed to shack at my place. I believe I've been challenged.
I realize that it may not be entirely logical for me to consider coping with the presence of a toothbrush to be facing my fears of commitment, but I'm taking baby steps here. One personal hygiene item at a time.
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