Last night, my husband decided to work late, so I was left to my own devices. I did what every woman should do when her husband is working late. I opened a bottle of red, turned on Etta James, and ate inordinate amounts of buttered french bread as I shimmied around the kitchen pretending to be the sex goddess I know that I am not. I hope no one saw me... I will never pass as anyone cool, not if you see me in my natural environment, like the kitchen, when no one else is home. Oh well, at least i know the truth. Even if no one else does...
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