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I once went to a "black diamond" mountain in Minnesota (read: gently sloping Midwest hill) and had to slam myself into the ground before skiing straight into the ski chalet.
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But as soon as I'd handed Xana over to Violeta at the door of her apartment, which threw up a miasma of cooking smells, tearful Telemundo dialogue, and the diachronic yapping of her four chihuahuas, I slammed myself into the car and called in sick.
I've actually had to get into slamming myself to fit with the trend, because that's what people are into.
I started by putting myself to bed (I was clearly in need of a nap), and then rather than playing whack-a-mole with every sad, unproductive moment I found myself in, slamming myself with self criticism, I said, Well, this is how it's going to be for a bit.
I accidentally locked myself out!" Get them to unlock the door and slam it shut in their faces.
I get very angry with myself and slam the wall next to Mickey's head too hard at the end of the scene.
Emerging from "Don't Dress for Dinner" after the last clandestine smooch had been snatched and the last bedroom door slammed, I found myself itchy with irritation, checking my skin for hives.
"I have stopped myself from saying it [Grand Slam].
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Since I tried Ludwig back in 2017, I have been constantly using it in both editing and translation. Ever since, I suggest it to my translators at ProSciEditing.

Justyna Jupowicz-Kozak
CEO of Professional Science Editing for Scientists @ prosciediting.com