You've visited twenty different churches but none seem to fit. Some Sundays, you're excited to get up, get dressed and go search. Other times, you'd rather pledge membership to Bedside Baptist and call it a day.

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When I finished my MBA years ago, the reality of the economy I had graduated in chin-checked me like nobody's business. Everyone told me, "Go to school, get good grades. You'll be making no less than $50,000 out of grad school."

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"I'll sleep when I'm dead."

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You get out of bed, pad into the bathroom, take one look at yourself in the mirror, turn around and get right back into bed. Your hair hasn't been washed in almost two weeks and you've been subsisting on cookies, chips, Coke, and Chinese food for about the same amount of time.

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It's a winter Saturday and the wind chill could cause most to cancel their plans and stay in bed but Jei Monroe and I are conversing like girlfriends who've known each other for years. We're at a bar of The Andaz on Wall Street and she's just ordered hot chocolate while I'm sipping cranberry juice. Our conversation naturally swings toward labels and fads, given the current pop cultural obsession with showing off brand names as a testament to personal style.

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Remember those midday naps we were called away from playtime for when we were kids?

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