Prepping, homesteading and living the simple, green, independent life.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Cubicles Will Be the Death of Me

My mom says that when my great-grandfather knew his time was coming he put on his boots, went out to his barn, lied down in the hay and passed away.

When my time comes where will I go?

I refuse to let it be in a soulless cubicle maze, with their temporary walls, in "business casual" with a parking garage being the last thing I see out the window.

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