I do that thing, when my husband can’t stand the towering pile of magazines pushing up my side of the bed or threatening to topple and wipe out one corner of the lounge, I go through the magazines and tear out all the things I like and recycle what’s left. Every kitchen I want, holiday I desire, all the food I need in my life, those dresses I covet, they become a stack of ripped edge paper that creates a new but smaller pile on my side of the bed or in a corner of the lounge.

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