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I was once a bank teller, waiting on Mark Wahlberg, writing sonnets, and battling my idiot manager.

Among the many jobs that I have had over the course of my life, I was once a teller at a bank for South Shore Bank in Randolph, Massachusetts, working in the drive-up window whenever possible. Mark Wahlberg actually banked with us back when he was known as Marky Mark and couldn’t keep his pants…

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Jack’s magic beans have a better chance of working than this.

I live in a perpetual state of existential crisis. Though I may have been born this way, I suspect that two near-death experiences and an armed robbery that left me with a decade long bout with PTSD contributed to my near-constant thoughts about mortality. My children don’t help with this problem. Watching them grow up…

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