before cancer, ined happiness to be, pretty soon i ranted or thres the hair.
nosed s and brain. i sold my car, gave up my career as a ood deal of money and barely hung on to my life. ht happiness self-indulgent. not kno hoain.
i had suffered months of fear, chemotherapy so strong it left burn-like marks under my skin and surgery to remove t up. i ate mexican food, played golf and lay on the couch. the pursuit of happiness meant going to my favorite restaurant and pursuing a plate of enchiladas ed me. the first happened one night at dinner. my : are you going to be a golf-playing, beer-drinking, mexican-food-eating slob for the rest of your life? if you are, i’ll still love you. but i need to knoo and get a job. i’m not going to sit at home olf.”
i stared at her.
“i’m so bored.”she said.
suddenly i understood that i in the morning, having a job to do and a s that tied my days together and gave them a pattern deserving of the term living.
in days i th and stna3—and purpose.
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