After working from home for almost 3 years, I am now commuting every day. Commuting in Raleigh is like skydiving: it’s relatively safe to do once, but I wouldn’t recommend doing it every day. You never see obituaries of the form Mr. Smith, skydived every day for 30 years, died in his sleep of natural causes. He is survived by his wife, two children, and a thriving Orkut community.
On my way to work this morning, I talked my way out of a $200 ticket and narrowly avoided two accidents.
In retrospect, it seems silly how much I fretted about my new job, whether I would fit in, whether people would like me, whether I would be any good at it. It’s like jumping off Niagra Falls in a barrel and worrying about the temperature of the water down below. Hey, dive in man, the water’s fine. It’s the fall that’s gonna kill ya.
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