As I race into Starbucks, wild-eyed and hair askew, I think to myself: Pond. Cabin. Book. Morning coffee. Loons, perhaps, at dusk. Someday. But not today. Today, I am racing to make a conference call with a colleague because my internet provider has decided that a workday is a wonderful day to upgrade my neighborhood’s…
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And another thing
It’s akin to psychoanalysis when you begin to look at the accoutrements of a life. I said to a friend the other day, “But who am I without three dozen appetizer plates in varying designs?” I was only half joking.