October 6, 2013
Most mornings I look forward to a spacious bus with lots of window-side seats to choose from, I look forward to one hour of zoning out and listening to Miley Cyrus telling me that we run things, things donít run we. Iím relishing these commutes because soon I wonít have the luxury of just sitting back and watching traffic crawl. The year is almost through. Iím constantly struggling to remember things, hoping Iíd actually convert plans into concrete action. Iím always wishing for the ability to breathe underwater for long periods of time.