Staring at the fridge shelf, contemplating mustard's migration from the top to bottom rack, wondering if it signals a condiment revolution in storage hierarchy.
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Staring at the toaster, Dan wondered why crumbs gather like tiny rebels refusing surrender. Breakfast's quiet rebellion, hidden in plain sight.
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Opening the fridge, I discovered an avocado wearing a tiny hat—my roommate’s attempt at food art. Unexpected, yet somehow it made Tuesday less ordinary.
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