I'm realizing that in order to find peace with my current occupation, I must strive for perfection in everything I do; I realized this yesterday while rolling silverware into dinner napkins. Every day is a lesson in humility.
As I stand at the server's counter, waiting for customers, doing the daily crossword puzzle, and calculating my overtime to infinity, Bruce McCulloch's "That's America!" resounds over and over in my head. Each nice day that I spend inside serving eggplant parmesan and braciole to unappreciative customers, I think that maybe, when this caged freebird flies again, maybe I, too, will walk. The AT, from Maryland to Connecticut, looks pretty good right now.
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Dude, you are totally not living in the Freeland I once knew. I remember a happy lad who blogged his little finger tips off . . . now reduced to spitting in Douche bags food, so sad. I miss you on the road brother, you'd really like these days I think, tons of material out here, not the same with out the mutual foilage we gave each other.
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