My Serotonin

It dawns on me that I am becoming obsessive about my salad.BLANK

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On the other hand, the barrenness of my life reduces me to this.  There is no good reason that, for instance, I have been kept from my premier walkies place now that my bionic leg has been approved for increased activity.  A sighting of my Mr. Darcy (the most excellent smelling dog to ever walk the Earth) would go a long way to improving my neurochemistry, as would a resumption of unleashed hunting expeditions.

Instead, I subsist on leash walks, destructo-mice, Kongs, various consumable chew items, Everlasting Fun Ball and feeling my eyeballs dry out watching the salad grow.  Between this sensory deprivation and the eternity since my last full bath, I feel on a collision course with hotspots and some sort of compulsive disorder. 

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