You are not alone.
The kid who thinks the external world - from mac-n-cheez to thrill rides at the county fair - is put in place by magical mommies/daddies for her sole pleasure grows up to be the woman who questions the reality of the timecard - from cubicle walls to eyeballs gone blurry by the light of the Dell or HP - as she tackles one more corporate demand. From what arts did childish beliefs transform into a velvet yoke?
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