You Can’t Go Home Again

They say, “You can’t go home again.”   ‘They’ in this case, being Thomas Wolfe (I had to Google that).
I didn’t feel that way.   I loved going home.  Especially in those after-college years, when I was furiously working, moving from state to state - and felt anything but settled.  Going home felt like a respite from a fast moving life bursting with uncertainties.   At home everything was familiar and comfortingly complacent. Inhale the scent of the house you grew up in, exhale anxiety from the foreign world that is your real life.

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My Love Hate Relationship with Yoga Pants

Its that time of year when we reluctantly shed the comfort of layers on our middle age bodies and face sleeveless shirts, shorts and (gulp) bathing suits.  Today I chose the lessor of those evils and threw on a pair of white shorts.  They blend into my incredibly pale legs; except for the age spots that I swear are taking on the shape of a wine bottle.  All I need is a sharpie and I’ve got the tattoo I always wanted.  

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Time to Make the Donuts

For sure the best part about getting a new job is that you can stop looking for a new job.  Just ceasing the obsessive checking of LinkedIn to see ‘who’s viewed your profile?!’ like a reality star counting Twitter followers, is a relief.   I’m telling you right off the top that I am both grateful for this opportunity and proud of the company I work for – this is just in case that message gets lost in my little narrative below.

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