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Love is the drug
My daughter, usually a "hakuna matata" sort of person, was stressed out. It was the beginning of her December vacation from school, but already Hadley was worried about the end of it. She would be flying into Newark from her dad's home in Texas and was daunted by the idea of lugging a hulking duffel and backpack through the airport to the New Jersey transit area, finding places for the luggage on the train, hauling everything onto a connecting train and then somehow struggling uphill from the depot to her college dorm.
By Catherine Mallette, The Baltimore Sun
February 8, 2013