I stumbled upon this fact as I was trying to get off the couch to go for my morning run. No matter what I tried, however, I could not break free. I was a prisoner in The House on the Hill.
Since I was convinced that Star Wars references were the order of the day, I summoned my inner Jedi for help. “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are my metabolism’s only hope“. I repeated that mantra until old Ben slipped past the stormtroopers, made his way to the tractor beam’s power source, and released me from its mighty grip.
Once I was freed from the couch, I shot out of The House on the Hill faster than the Millennium Falcon making the Kessel Run. I was a quarter of a mile up Sate Street before…
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