Fucking Panic Attacks

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I tried everything I could think of to get my breathing under control. I used breathing techniques I learned from meditation apps (who claimed the techniques were the same ones SEALS operatives use when under fire.) I tried telling myself everything was OK. I imagined the doctor telling me everything was OK. I told myself, fuck it- worse thing that could happen is that you die, and you gotta die one day anyway. Somehow even that nihilistic reasoning did nothing to calm me. My husband couldn’t calm me. Doctor’s couldn’t calm me. Even the nurse telling me to think of cute puppies couldn’t calm me down.

And puppies are fucking adorable.

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8 Reasons Why Female Superheroes Are Ridiculous

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8. Fighting crime in high heels is just not practical

I can’t make it to my desk at work in high heels without rolling my ankle, let alone fight crime.

7. Hair styles that would never work in a fight

If I don’t put my hair in a pony tail when I workout at the gym, my hair sticks to my sweaty face immediately and I have to peel it back to see. Oh, but look, Rogue is wearing a sweatband- so, she’ll be fine.

6. Outfits that are so tight that they can only be painted on

Their outfits make my spandex pants look like snow pants.

5. Sports bras are never, ever worn

I need two when I go running.

4. Unrealistic body types for fighting crime

Lifting boulders daily- these women should look like fridges, not hourglasses.

3. Despite sweating during a fight, their makeup is always intact

I look like batman after he takes off his mask when I’m done my workout.

2. They all seem to have useless accessories

What on earth is that belt holding up?

1. Apparently, Double D’s are mandatory to fight crime

The plastic surgery clinic in the marvel universe is making bank.

Accidentally Moving to the Ghetto

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Despite being chained to a mountain of debt, Jess and Lexi set out after college to escape their vapid Jersey hometown in an attempt to find the underbelly of a city where the people are provocative, the environment is stimulating, and the whiskey is cheap.

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Crazy Cat Cycling Club

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Lexi always got on Jess about leaving the house with damp hair, arguing that apparently “air-drying your hair by leaving your windows down on the drive to work” was not an acceptable form of hair drying.

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The Tardigrades

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It’d been two weeks and three days since Jess heard nothing but radio silence from her flame, Chris James: the same silence that haunted their meals together the last few weeks of their relationship.

But Jess didn’t know it was over, really over until now.

After neurotically analyzing every inch of his profile while twisting in the agony of her unrequited love, Jess finally got her answer. Not from a phone call or a response to her regrettably meek texts asking when she would see him again, but from an updated status confirming Jess’ worst fear.

And now Jess wasn’t preoccupied with his updates anymore- she was consumed with hers.

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Aim For The Ground, Not The Stars

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“Jesus, even in your fantasies you shoot for the floor,” Nick said, holding up the ragged sleeve of Jess’ costume.

Oh, the stars, that’s right, I’m supposed to aim for the stars,” Jess answered in the least mocking tone she could muster. After five years of marriage, Nick decided it was time to divulge his shameful secret- he loved Renaissance fairs. No, not loved, obsessed, he was obsessed with renaissance fairs. Nothing made him happier, he said, than dressing up in a historically accurate costume, eating a turkey leg in one hand and drinking beer from his chipped bull horn in the other. So that’s how Jess found herself here, dressed in a period-accurate costume as a wench. Something she never thought to put on her own bucket list.

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Global Dodge Ball

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Because that’s what it feels like, doesn’t it? A ginormous game of dodge ball.

The game was on. Jess mentally prepared herself. Physically prepared herself. Then it was time, the clock started when the virus hit her area. Just one case at first. Then two. But Jess was ready, so ready. She had a bottle of hand sanitizer, plenty of meds, a bottle of Wild Turkey, and cans upon cans of food that will probably follow her into retirement.

To say Jess was excited to play the game is an overstatement; but, prepared, resolved to beat this virus- yes.

And like every game of dodge ball that Jess ever played, she was out in round one.

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Nerd Farm

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Management Analysts are an unapologetic nerdy sort. Their love for plugging away on their spreadsheets and scrubbing endless data is pure and simple. Or at least that seemed to be the case in the nerd farm Jess was recently hired to work in.

Jess had no idea how she was selected for the analyst position. Had she successfully argued during her interview that her smorgasbord of past jobs actually entailed ‘analyzing data’? Even Jess was surprised when she saw the job offer in her inbox. But after unsuccessfully job hunting for six months, she wasn’t about to question the decision to hire her.

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The Squeak

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The noise sounded like air slowly being released from a balloon– or at least that’s what Elle thought.

When she heard the sound, her whole body was bathing in the warmth of his radiant heat; her arms coiled around his barrel chest, fingers entwined in a thicket of chest hair, breasts flattening with every perfectly in sync inhale. She was in a complete state of ecstasy; high on his virile pheromones and the scent of his musky cologne.

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