It is 10:42 AM, the morning of my 32nd birthday. Rap made me breakfast of toasted bread, sausages, and coffee, waking me up from a bizarre dream (we were vacationing in some rural town in Korea, riding a dingy rollercoaster that had a rectangular track, and our dog Nawa was on it too). As I sip my coffee and nibble on the toast lovingly prepared by him, I check social media and reply to greetings. To my surprise, our ninong Luke has greeted me too, but of course in the form of a backhanded compliment. Still, what a nice gesture. I reflect how it is 10 AM on a Monday morning, and I'm having a slow start to my day at home. I can't help but compare it to my 30th birthday, which I had spent in an office, feeling sad. On that morning, I'd rushed out the condo at 6 AM to get to the office by 7, so I could leave the office by 4, so I could make it to a dinner with my college friends. I was sad because I wanted more than anything to just go home. Office life is weird...
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