During the first few years after I came to America as a graduate student, my life was a monotonous repetition of long cold nights in my attic den, day long lab and class and daily lunchtime walk to the student centre for a 99 cent taco with a plastic glass of water.
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It is Monday, the day before the US election and I am feeling a little taste of bitterness in my mouth. It is coming from the knowledge that I have no choice in this election.
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