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What is the urge we so commonly feel to share bad news? The need seems to be genetically encoded somehow.

I just learned that my supervisor died this afternoon (about an hour and a half ago). I had known of her struggle with cancer over the last two years; I had known when she was out for chemo, etc.; and I was aware when she dropped out of sight right after Christmas, never to return to the office again.

I know she was young (two years younger than I am), she had a nine year old daughter, she went to the same college I did, and she was good at her job.

I know that since February, her only request to her doctors was to keep her alive long enough to see her oldest boy graduate from high school this May.

So how is that something you know is going to happen can still be such a shock?

It certainly heightens my own current malaise about Living My Life on Other People's Terms, as the working world seems to me, and makes the FIRE burn more fiercely.

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When Life Gives You Lemons
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