1. I choose to 5S my backpack because it had been causing small annoyances in my everyday life. For example‚ I would spend an unnecessary amount of time looking for a writing utensil‚ my keys‚ or wallet. This became a problem when I needed to find these items in a hurry. I also had trouble finding papers (and nametags) I needed in the main part of my bag‚ because there were many unlabeled folders and papers scattered around. 2. Sort: Contents that were in the front pocket included trash‚ coins‚ pens
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My Daddy was an insurance salesman and our family moved every few years‚ always living in the South. Many towns clumped together and our stability became the culture of the South. My aunts and uncles scattered from west Tennessee to Mississippi and our yearly vacations and holidays turned into adventures in their company. Geographically‚ my world appeared small‚ but I had no idea. We swam and fished at Reelfoot Lake - muddy and full of cypress trees. Where we swam a sign read‚ THE BEACH - in my
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St. Vincent’s hospital I thought I was in labor but the doctor said my water wasn’t broken yet. So I had to walk up and down the hallway for the baby to come down. Then finally the doctor pulled my water. And oh my god I was in so much pain. The nurse said” Keep pushing‚ the baby is almost out.” With a final push I had my baby. She was the most beautiful little baby with dark hair and big light brown eyes. I called Diana. My husband came later I was disappointed because he wasn’t there for the
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is prevalent in my life‚ growing up‚ my mother never worried about whether I ate or had what I needed. My mother’s main concern was drinking‚ getting high or who she’d sleep with next. In the attempt to escape the abuse‚ I endured‚ I learned to allow my imagination to grow and began inventing imaginary stories. My mother would spank me‚ she thought that my stories were lies. However‚ when I was seven my stepmother came into my life‚ at first I hated her‚ I couldn’t fathom sharing my father with her
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At first I just wanted a cookie. In elementary I would get a cookie from my parents if I did well in school. So during that time I would try my hardest to do well in school just so I could receive the prize. But by the time I got to junior high I discovered that I did not want to do well in school for the cookie. I just loved to learn about new things. Even though there are many financial obstacles that stood in my way of learning‚ I still plan on succeeding in life and helping out others who are
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was the most significant day in my life‚ and I thought that for many years‚ but I was wrong. Being adopted is not weird‚ it is just confusing; and one word can control your thoughts for years. Why? My adoptive life was normal. I have loving parents‚ a dog‚ and we argue‚ just like any other normal family. That didn’t mean I did not think about my birth parents. I even envied them. I look back today and ponder why I did and all I can think of is that‚ they were my parents‚ why wouldn’t I? I originally
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loved my dad’s meatloaf. It was one of my favorite meals‚ and I always asked him to make it often. Some days‚ I would come home from school and my dad would say “I’m making your favorite food for supper!” My mood would instantly better no matter what kind of day I had. He has a special touch to his meatloaf; a kind of touch that makes his stick out from any other meatloaf I’ve ever had. Maybe I’m being bias‚ but I’ve never tried a meatloaf recipe that was better than my dad’s. One night‚ my dad made
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December 2013. My family was busy shoveling snow all day. We were getting settled after the work when‚ my father started having cold sweats and a tightness in his jaw‚ furthermore he complained about chest pain. Me‚ being a science student‚ knew what this meant. We rushed to the hospital distressed. Later‚ the doctor told us that he was lucky to be here as he was having a heart attack . He had a stent placed via the latest technique; which was inserted through the wrist. Thanks to this method‚ my dad had
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imagination. I would turn the recliner into Pride Rock and the backyard into a jungle. But‚ it was my sidekick‚ my partner in crime‚ my little sister who made my imagination grow and become real. Through years‚ as we get older and we add adult responsibilities to our daily lives she has never lost that imagination I remember. Although her imagination has changed into more adult-like forms she has been a signpost in my life. When I watch her and listen to what she tells me I can see her wheels turning. She
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to explain a very minor moment‚ finally getting my tattoo. This may not seem like a moment that could have even shaped me in an individual way‚ other than physically‚ it oddly has though. I had been waiting for this moment since my 18th birthday back in September‚ sadly for me‚ my father kept putting it off‚ because it was supposed to be my birthday gift from him.
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