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When I come home, my daughter will run to the door and give me a big hug, and everything that's happened that day just melts away.
For years my wedding ring has done its job. It has led me not into temptation. It has reminded my husband numerous times at parties that it's time to go home. It has been a source of relief to a dinner companion. It has been a status symbol in the maternity ward.
Parents are working more than ever before and unable to monitor what kids are eating at home, and schools are selling astronomical amounts of junk food in order to supplement shrinking budgets. It's a ticking time bomb, and America's children are exploding.
It's heartbreaking that so many hundreds of millions of people around the world are desperate for the right to vote, but here in America people stay home on election day.
Almost everything worthwhile carries with it some sort of risk, whether it's starting a new business, whether it's leaving home, whether it's getting married, or whether it's flying in space.
I am alone a lot, which is good. I need that time to just be alone after a long day, just decompress. So, I go to either my house or the hotel, or my apartment, or whatever — wherever I am, I go home and I watch TV and I sit there, with my cat, and I just watch TV or go online, check my emails.
Charity begins at home, and justice begins next door.
We survived on natural resources, so we should take care of the earth. When I leave home, I do things like switching off the heat and lights.