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You know, there was this time, before I was the happy-go-lucky, always cheerful ray of sunshine I am today, I could swear a little gray cloud started following me—like a cartoon, but less cute and more passive-aggressive.
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At first, I thought, “Oh, great, my mood has summoned its own pathetic weather system.”
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It didn’t rain, though—no dramatic downpour or anything, just this annoying, misty drizzle, like the universe itself was sighing at me.
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I tried to get rid of it by cheering up, "fake it till you make it" style, but the cloud wouldn’t have it and just hung there, following me around.
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At some point, we became best buddies me and it, and I named it—Claude, the Cloud, my moody little companion in despair.
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I’m not sure when, but Claude drifted off without saying much of a goodbye. Sometimes I think I can feel him around but when I turn around it’s never there. Honestly, I still kind of miss my emotional support-weather phenomena.
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