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Tales of an Outsider
I am an outsider in my office. I’ve only lived in Texas a year, I am working a job intended for someone younger than me (about 15 years younger), and the people who are my age are employees fully invested in the pathetic drama that comes from working for a public academic institution.
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Eeyore Quit Calling Me…
There is nothing less worthy of dedicating my morning commute to than bitching about first world problems. I must have the face of a therapist because I seem to attract people with problems. Which isn’t usually an issue until I get the happy sucked out of my morning commute by an Eeyore who calls me just to complain incessantly about some garbage that really isn’t that much of an issue.
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In search of the thirtysomething mom
I know I cannot be the only thirtysomething mom with children in middle school. Right? I feel like I am hunting for a mythical creature. I can't be the only thirtysomething with kids.








