Yesterday, as in all days when I finish a house job, I come home giddy and exhausted. My fingernails are so destroyed that I have trouble popping gum out of its case. My feet arches groan under the pressure of one more step. But my brain is on fire. I want to share every single little interaction and undertaking. I can tell Z braces for impact when the apt door swings open wide.
But the last 2.5 weeks has taught me a lot of things. I think I'm fortunate that I'm incredibly different than my predecessor. I'm not a bad version of her. I'm no version of her at all.
Monday, April 2, 2012
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