I'm spending a few days out of town --- there's too much rattling around my head, and there are things to think about. Or contemplate. Or meditate about. Or to fully forget and see if they come up again. Or something.
But, when re-listening to a great poem Wendy found ("Flying and Falling") on the Writer's Almanac, I found another gem.
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Eventually he died, yet instead of the fun stuff he'd heard so much about, his afterlife was getting up and going to work, then coming home, and that was it.
After a few weeks of this, he summoned his courage to see St. Peter and explained that he'd worked hard all his life and now he wanted his reward.
St. Peter looked at the guy's file.
"I'm sorry," St. Peter told him. "But apparently this is all you know how to do."
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