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Memory is a strange quality. I remember having worked at UNC in the graduate economics department. I no longer remember what I did (let alone where I sat, who else worked there, where we had lunch, what time I got off, what year it was...). What could I possibly have done, given that I knew nothing about economics? There is nothing in this letter*—presumably unsent? definitely unsent, as it's not folded, & I was never in the habit of keeping copies of my sent correspondence, unless an occasional first draft to a special someone—that rings the faintest bell. I would not have thought I had written the folks at Enroute. It's like seeing yourself in a photo, sitting on Harry Truman's lap, & you are 7 years old, old enough to remember, but you don't, not even something important. Not that this job was memorable, but I wish I had a single bit of it left in my head.

*Dear Dear Enrouties --
yes yes you can deposit my check. I am a temporary employee of the university -- they almost weren't gonna pay me cuz I refused to sign a loyalty oath -- it's green here, more than 565,000 curbside trees, incl magnolias & poplars etc (meaning I don't know what they are) -- they did not hire me f or my typing -- how do I get rid of the righthand margin -- let's see what else oh yeah how're things in the city of dreams --celine was here last week (just missed 'im)--after vivaldi they play frank sinatra ("eclectic") -- no cockroaches -- izit furiously hot up nawth-- as for miracles -- no cockroaches is pretty miraculous -- see y'all in a coupla weeks
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