FOREWORD

      A little over a year ago, I was living in Buffalo, NY. A place I called home for my entire life. I was working two full-time jobs with a master’s degree, trying to keep up with life. My debts were mounting, and I found myself living to work. There were many days when I could not tell when my day was beginning or ending. I could not think because I did not have time. I was too busy, let alone able to find time for much else. There were so many days when my workday would start at 7:00 AM and it would not finish until 2:30 AM. I would travel from one job to the next, with twenty minutes in-between to stop by a drive-thru window. After work, if I was lucky, I had just enough time to sleep for a few hours, maybe eat a little something, and take a shower to refresh myself before repeating the same process of work each day. Time off for me was a rare occasion. I had earned plenty of it, but I was so busy working, I did not have time, nor did I understand the concept of taking a break. I did not even take any time off from work when my father passed away. I am sure many