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  • The road isn't a highway, more like a meandering speedway. You can go pretty fast on the curves, if you so choose. But I go five miles below the limit.

    Why? Because I can't get enough of the sights. The abandoned rail cart painted in an attempt at gaudy patriotism. The high-powered sprinklers sending rainbows over the grden fresh New Jersey corn. The field full of chopped firewood. The various old jalopys for sale, only five hundred bucks a pop. The little airport and the ominous plane crash just across the way. A stark military graveyard, a shrine to a forgotten saint.

    Seeing all of this, just to walk in to an office that smells like coffee grinds and sunshine fills me with a strange sort of calm.

    I guess the phrase "It's not about the destination, it's about the journey" rings true on my way to work.
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