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I'm listening to a radio documentary right now about a filmmaker who tried to make a film about his mother's death before she had passed away, but found it so shattering to always think about his mother dying that he couldn't do it, so he became a playwright instead. His mother was a single parent who worked two jobs and went back to school and got her PhD when she was 50, and taught at the same university for seven more years.
Sarah, I miss you. I wish I was baking bread. Unfortunately, I have a deep fear of cooking yeast, so you'd have to handle that part. Once the yeast is no longer in that creepy round creature-like state, everything's cool.
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