My mind was elsewhere when you asked me about my default printer. I don’t have the right one. I have the wrong one. I wanted to know why, but you could not explain. Heads turned, also needing an answer. How can something change overnight? We need routine here. A solution would come, you promised. I saw how you described my needs on your clipboard, both names spelt incorrectly and a dash leading to a series of numbers. This is how you represent my needs. I want to throw off my cardigan and the cold air to fall on my skin.
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