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Personality Transplant

I lay back on the pillows, tears leaking from the corner of my eyes. My husband looked across at me.

“What’s wrong?”

I hesitated, not because I didn’t know what was wrong, but because it was sort of ridiculous.

I was crying because of a personality test (well, three, actually). But who does that?

Read the rest of this story at segullah.org/blog/
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