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Let's talk about the three inches of space between the elevator doors when they're closing. It's the ultimate test of human speed and agility. Trying to slip through those closing doors is like auditioning for a real-life action movie, and most of us fail spectacularly. I always end up doing the awkward elevator door dance – two steps forward, one step back.
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Three inches – that's the distance between my patience and slow walkers on the sidewalk. It's like they've got all the time in the world, while I'm behind them doing my best power-walking impersonation. I've developed a whole repertoire of fake phone calls just to justify my brisk pace without seeming like a complete maniac.
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Three inches – that's the distance between my hand and the snooze button on my alarm clock. Every morning, it's a battle between my determination to wake up early and the undeniable allure of that sweet, sweet extra three inches of sleep. The snooze button is basically my own personal time machine, but only capable of traveling in 9-minute increments.
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You know, they say the average attention span is about eight seconds nowadays. That's like the time it takes for someone to realize they left their keys at home, do a three-inch U-turn, and head back. We're living in the era of the micro-attention span, where even goldfish are looking at us like, "Get it together, guys.
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Have you ever tried to assemble furniture at home? The instruction manual shows this confident person effortlessly putting together a bookshelf in three easy steps. In reality, I'm on step one for an hour, staring at a pile of screws and a three-inch Allen wrench, wondering if I should just admit defeat and turn it into modern art.
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You know, they say laughter is the best medicine. Well, if that's true, then the three inches between my laughter and the next person's in a comedy club is like a pharmacy aisle. We're all just here, grabbing our doses of joy, hoping it's covered by our insurance – or at least the two-drink minimum.
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Three inches, that's the average height of those coffee shop chairs. I don't know who designed them, but it's like they want you to have a taste of what it feels like to be a toddler trying to enjoy your latte. I feel like I need a booster seat just to reach the foam on my cappuccino.
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You ever notice how smartphone screens are getting bigger and bigger? I mean, my phone is like carrying around a mini TV now. But hey, no matter how big they make the screen, I'm still squinting at those tiny little checkboxes when I'm trying to unsubscribe from an email. It's like they're playing hide and seek in a three-inch jungle!
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Three inches – that's the average space between shampoo bottles in the shower. It's a daily struggle to pick up the right one without knocking the others down. I swear, my shower has become a real-life version of the game Jenga, but with bottles of body wash and conditioner instead of wooden blocks.
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Let's talk about the three inches of space reserved for ketchup in those fast-food drive-thru trays. It's like a culinary tightrope walk. You've got your burger, your fries, and then the ketchup – balancing precariously on the edge, threatening to tumble into the abyss between your car seats. It's a condiment cliffhanger every time.
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