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I got in my Porsche this morning at 4:30 am and flew down the carpool lane headed toward Manhattan. I sat at my desk and looked out my window past the mountains of paper on my desk. I made $100 for myself and $150 for my boss in one hour of work. I shuffle through endless papers for twelve hours. On the way to my home office, I stop by my son’s room to wish him good night but he’s already asleep. I poured myself a drink of scotch and wondered is this the life I wanted?
(19 students wrote together this text in a seminar)
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