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Two Minutes Dead, One-Eyed Barnaby Alive: When Family Love Becomes a Bill

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eighteen-wheeler, hauling steel and consumer goods to keep the American economy spinning.

I didn’t eat meals; I inhaled gas station burritos. I didn’t sleep; I napped in twenty-minute bursts fueled by neon-green energy drinks and lukewarm coffee. My body wasn’t a temple; it was a depreciating asset I was running into the ground.

Why? Because I was the continue reading …

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