After standing in front of the Xerox for hours, jamming it more times than I can count and angering a swath of people trying to print, I wandered back to my cube and wondered aloud, “is this what the next forty years are going to be like?”
“No. You’re going places.” Was the reply from over the cubeyard fence.
Everything is finite. What seems horrible on one day will be something that you’ll be nostaligic for on another day.
Fast forward four years. There are the days when I longingly stare at the Xerox machine from across the office – wishing I could take 1/2 a day to be mesmerized by its magical green light & transported back to tell my twenty-something self to chill out.

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