Your smell has not faded from my bed but I miss us. quit your job tomorrow and stay I've got a studio, two blocks from the lake You can get a job, I still hate your mother But all will be forgiven after the children come
The row on row of IBM Selectrics clacking the smell is still with me hanging like the memory of disappointment 3rd period typing. The dot com bubble still a decade or more away why the hell would I want to learn to type? I wanted to be a boss not a slave. To be young again.
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