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You and Me and My Brand New Bikini
Quite recently I had the worst panic attack in the history of my psychosomatic problems. Absolutely the worst. Quite surprisingly, or not as quite and just me underestimating, people came to the rescue. As an addition, although it didn't solve anything, I discovered that the thought does not matter, action does.
In general, am very anxious and perhaps quite bored.
People had been describing me as very outspoken and extrovert. I believe in this, and in people, so I wonder why I ever need to suffer anxieties. It's not a characteristic that should follow such treaties I was described as.
Anyhow, I felt really bored today. I tried to walk it off. Didn't work. I tried to annoy someone (hey Bert!). Didn't work. So I went to the supermarket. But it was not chaos that I tried to escape. It was boredom. Obviously Supermarket didn't work. The last resort was retail therapy.
Ditsky told me earlier she had just bought two new bikinis in her last weekend trip to Bali. Awesome. I left mines at my mother's house. I need new pairs of bikinis, maybe? There is absolutely no way I will buy a pair in BIP. So I ended up buying new pairs of undies. All black, cotton, no lace.
It didn't help much. But realizing that I, at the very least, recognized what happened and tried to handle it, was good enough for me.
So perhaps a few months from now, people. Sunset in a beach, you, me, and my new bikini.
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