Work is easy. Going to a job is easy. This is hard. Trying to balance a schedule of an 8 month old with my endless need to practice college math is trying to break me. I will not break. I may not be able to do other things that I want to do right now but that is part of the sacrifice, the big picture. So I throw in another load of laundry, make sure she is still napping and return to this computer: checking answers on endless homework assignments and trying to figure out what I did wrong. I sweat in my brain. My eyes bulge. Going to work is easy. My golf clubs taunt me, sitting there all country club and smug. I will hit you again bastards but first I must solve for X, over and over and over again.

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