Let’s Be Honest – False Necessities

Every day, I feel as though I need a cup of coffee to survive. If I don’t have my cup of coffee, I have a pretty killer headache around lunchtime. I also pretty much compulsively check my Instagram feed daily. Sometimes, three times a day, but sometimes only once. I get really absorbed in reading a book, and I love either a dessert or a glass of wine after dinner (lately it’s been the glass of wine or some cheese). But these things won’t literally sustain me. They may make my day better, and I may rely on them for
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Morning Coffee

This morning I am mourning coffee. We’re not giving coffee up. That’s not the issue. I just finished the cup of coffee I started drinking at 7:30 a.m. The last few swallows were cold, and the coffee had been reheated once. It’s actually quite a miracle I only had to reheat it once. Twice is the norm these days. I’m mourning coffee because it’s not the ritualistic experience it used to be. I love a good cup of Larry’s Beans coffee either brewed and black or made in the french press and served with steamed milk. But it’s not just
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The Fingernail Project

I bite my fingernails. It’s my dirty habit that isn’t so much a secret because no one thinks, oh wow, she cuts her nails really short. No one cuts their nails that short. The only times in my whole life when I’ve had fingernails that exceeded my fingertip were when I was on prenatal vitamins and when I got fake gel ones for my wedding (which were a huge mistake, felt uncomfortable, and I ended up jamming one off while Tyler and I played pool on our honeymoon. Never again). But I’m tired of ugly nails. I really don’t even have
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Let’s Be Honest – Habits

I’m 26-years-old and I still bite my fingernails. I’ve never once used fingernail clippers on them. Never. I like my bad habits. I like biting my nails, chewing gum at all moments, and putting my elbows on the table during dinner. There is something comfortable about our own habits. While they may be unacceptable or social faux pax, they are familiar, comfortable, and homey. Isn’t that why we don’t give them up —why we won’t give up picking at scabs, constantly checking our phones for new updates, or twirling our hair? They are our comfort. It’s what we do when we’re
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