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May 17, 2004
The days in the office for which I will spend the evening in Rye seem to be less difficult than the days when I will go home alone. Perhaps the anticipation tempers my entire outlook and I am able to not care so much about the things that are going on at the office, so I don't get so bent out of shape. Or perhaps the happiness just completely blots out whatever nastiness arises during the day. In the end, it all just boils down to this essential fact: work is no longer the most important thing in my life.