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You ever hear a weird noise at night, and suddenly you're convinced your house is haunted? I heard a creak in the hallway the other night, and I swear I was ready to move out. I'm lying there, wide-eyed, thinking, "Okay, is it a ghost, a burglar, or just the house settling?" So, naturally, I did what any brave person would do—I Googled it. Turns out, it's just the house adjusting to temperature changes. But now I have this mental image of my house doing yoga in the middle of the night, trying to find its zen. Namaste, haunted house, namaste.
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You ever notice how your brain decides to scare the living daylights out of you right when you're about to fall asleep? You're lying there in the dark, trying to enjoy some sweet dreams, and suddenly your brain's like, "Hey, remember that embarrassing thing you did in 7th grade?" I'm like, "Brain, we're past that. We're adults now." But no, my brain insists on replaying the greatest hits of my social awkwardness at the worst possible time. It's like my own personal horror movie every night, directed by my subconscious.
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I recently went to one of those haunted houses, you know, the ones where people dressed as zombies jump out at you. Now, I thought I was tough, but let me tell you, my reaction time is impressive. I moved so fast; I broke the sound barrier. But here's the thing, it's not the zombies that get me; it's the anticipation. The suspense kills me. I'm walking through this dark corridor, heart pounding, and my brain's going, "What if there's a real zombie this time?" Spoiler alert: there wasn't. But my Fitbit thought I ran a marathon.
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You know, being scared is a funny thing. I mean, I get it, we're wired to be scared of certain things for survival, right? But let's be real, my survival instincts kick in at the weirdest times. Like, I'm not afraid of spiders or heights. No, no, no, my primal fear? Parallel parking. I see an open spot on the street, and suddenly, I'm in a cold sweat, calculating angles and distances like it's a NASA mission. And if there's someone waiting for the spot, forget it—I'll just drive around the block for an hour.
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