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April 28, 2011 - 8:12 p.m.
Do I have OCD, or is it just Glee? Am I succeptible to influence? Or do my nailbiting, stove-checking, lights out, cats-not-locked in anywhere, click the car's automatic door lock twice (at least) alarm sounding habits mean I am scatter-brained, short-memoried, formerly-fried or just ... spacey I watch too much television, worry too much carry on at a pace that makes me have to constantly look over my shoulder to remind myself to breathe, live and stop neck-craned, like a toddler in a Chinese restaurant, stopped in his tracks by a lobster tank "Lobsters uggy" waiting to watch the world in retrospect as we rushed head-long towards the future. i always had such gusto that they never realized I had it too, cause I faked those early entrances, masked with such a veneer of false confidence, you'd never know I was the type to get stage fright, to forget, to have no idea and to have restaurant waitress work-nightmares about all the things I can't keep straight but fake so that nobody knows i get anxiety but function like a normal girl, only better
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