Monday
Monday Meetings
It's Monday. A Monday with 4 meetings on my calendar. 4 one-hour long meetings. That's half of my day spent listening to someone else talk at me. Why is this a good way to spend my workday? Oh yeah, because I'm still getting paid to sit here and listen to someone talk at me. The current meeting is about productivity. I'm enjoying the irony.
What do you call a hooker in a wheelchair?
Roll-Aids!
What do you call a hooker in a wheelchair?
Roll-Aids!
Freewrite
Raze
How is it possible that something so stalwart and seemingly endless can fall? She struggled with the reality of seeing her old school razed to ground, making way for a new mini mall. Those walls in pieces in the back of the dumptruck held the voices and memories of her childhood friends, teachers and youthful life. A small part of her soul jumped with joy at the opportunity and excitement of the new, but it was overridden with the sorrow of loss. Part of her had been torn down with those walls and all that remained was in her mind. How long could that last? A season for all things.
She kept driving past her old stomping grounds, through the town she had lived all her live and now barely recognized. The big box stores brought discounts and 'Going out of Business' signs with every foreign cartload sold. Is there a place in this world not tainted by greed and ease? Where men and women still worked for what they valued and children played outside until dark? She longed for the days of homecooked meals around the table and real chopped wood in the fireplace.
The road ahead with it's dotted yellow lines did not have the speed limit of the interstate, but she was in no hurry. All roads are connected in this land, she'll drive until things make sense again.
How is it possible that something so stalwart and seemingly endless can fall? She struggled with the reality of seeing her old school razed to ground, making way for a new mini mall. Those walls in pieces in the back of the dumptruck held the voices and memories of her childhood friends, teachers and youthful life. A small part of her soul jumped with joy at the opportunity and excitement of the new, but it was overridden with the sorrow of loss. Part of her had been torn down with those walls and all that remained was in her mind. How long could that last? A season for all things.
She kept driving past her old stomping grounds, through the town she had lived all her live and now barely recognized. The big box stores brought discounts and 'Going out of Business' signs with every foreign cartload sold. Is there a place in this world not tainted by greed and ease? Where men and women still worked for what they valued and children played outside until dark? She longed for the days of homecooked meals around the table and real chopped wood in the fireplace.
The road ahead with it's dotted yellow lines did not have the speed limit of the interstate, but she was in no hurry. All roads are connected in this land, she'll drive until things make sense again.
Can you please just...
When time seems to stand in the background and the clouds watch you walk by, why not answer the questions in your mind with the answers you already know? What would you say to your best friend if the question was asked? Why not take that advice and live it? Why question the knowledge given to you from the source? Apathy and indifference have never led to happiness. Steel is strengthened by fire, not burned by it. Can you please just...
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