change

When I moved to Australia, not only did I need to learn to drive on the opposite side of the road, but with the steering wheel on the opposite side of the car. Yes, I drove over more than my share of curbs initially, and parking took me an eternity, but those were not my biggest adjustments. 

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The shelf was near overflowing for months, but I wouldn’t admit it. There was always more than a sliver of space which was an open invitation to keep piling. Photo albums, cookbooks, and children’s books my kids had outgrown years ago. All happily co-existed – until they didn’t.

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Waiting for my flight during a long layover, I admit, I tried to read my book but listened to a lot of the people around me talk on their phones. More than a few of them used their time productively and deserved a gold star. They were working on their fancy-schmancy PowerPoints and talking to a colleague. What I couldn’t get over was the dumb stuff they said, and even more interesting was that they had no idea how dumb they sounded. 

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