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Listful Thinking’s great post: Everybody’s Got Something to Hide, Except for Me and My Monkey

After reading this, you can thank Stephanie at Listful Thinking for your new knowledge of Professional Detachment. Brilliant post—just what I needed.

Listful Thinking

Remember that time I was mad at every single person and object on the entire planet for no reason at all? I figured out what my problem was.

I had way too many monkeys.

Not, like, actual monkeys. I should back up.

Last week I asked my boss, Ike, if it was alright for me to stop going to a meeting that always leaves me with a feeling similar to the kind one might experience after repeatedly slamming one’s head into a brick wall.

A brick wall that won't listen to any of your ideas and gets really upset when you question it. A brick wall that won’t listen to any of your ideas and gets really upset when you question it.

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Faking It Until I Make It

Sometimes I feel like an impostor. I hear myself talking to someone on the phone at work and I sound authoritative and knowledgable and then I hang up and I think, ‘They actually bought that?’
Not that I don’t think I know a little about a lot of things, but it seems strange to me that someone would seek me out as a person who has good information to hand out.
These people have obviously not seen me in my natural habitat, where I start a sentence and lose my words so my kids have to interpret what I want from my hand signals. Sometimes they even get it right.
I suppose what I really mean is I want people seek me out for information, just not the kind I give at my day job. I don’t dislike my day job—I am grateful I have a job to go to every day and that they treat me well and pay me regularly—it’s just not what I want to spend the rest of my days doing.

Someone I know just decided to follow her heart. It was a brave decision. It looks crazy to some, but it’s brave. She is more than 20 years older than me and it took her this long to get up the nerve. I hope it doesn’t take me two more decades to make my decision.

Writing Unconstrained

I’m watching the sun set from my desk. I stare a little too long and I can’t see my screen anymore, just a big ball of orange light. Writing blind. I do that sometimes- write without looking at the page/screen. There’s something about writing freely without worrying about the grammar or punctuation—allowing sentences to trail off when an idea has broken or you’ve run out of page. Not to get philosophical, but life might be better if we lived like that once in a while. It’s cathartic to go a day, or even an hour or two, not worrying about what you’re wearing or how you are perceived by others. It’s exhausting to always be on, to always be correct. Sometimes it’s okay to let yourself trail off the page for a bit.

Facebook Ruined My Life, Now They Must Pay

This is a fantastic post- I’m especially loving her Shar-Pei filter idea for Facebook. Someone should get on that.

Peg-o-Leg's Ramblings

Should a ginormous corporation be allowed to humiliate a child and profit from her pain? Could $167,000,000 in compensation even begin to make up for her suffering? We can only hope so.

I give you, Exhibit A

Oh, the humanity Oh, the humanity

What’s the first thing you notice about this picture? (Besides the vast number of people piled onto 2 chairs.) Your eyes are drawn to the child on the right.

She sits alone. Two skinned knees are proof of a life spent tripping and bumping into coffee tables, and it’s not hard to see why.  Her cats-eyes glasses hint at the weak eyes beneath, while her chubby body attests to a complete lack of athletic skills. Her hand-me-down dress is so short the viewer can practically see both London AND France. From the top of her head (uneven hack-job on too-short bangs) to the soles of her feet (in black knee-socks…

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It Sucks That Someone You Loved Died

After the recent death of a coworker, I was tasked with buying cards for the family. It caused so much anxiety. Each “sympathy” card I picked up was depressing or schmaltzy. They all said crap about how your loved one is in a better place, or please accept our condolences, or our deepest sympathies. Ugh. I tried to think of how I would feel getting cards like that- it would just make me more sad. I finally settled on some not-too-bad cards, but I think it’s time I started my own line of It Sucks That Someone You Loved Died cards.

Here are a few to start out with:

Front of card: Death Sucks
Inside of card: I’d love to throat-punch him for you.

Front of card: I know this is a very sad time for you.
Inside of card: Here’s a kitten.

Front of card: My Condoleezza’s for your grape loss.
Inside of card: Don’t ever write a sympathy card after a root canal.

Front of card: (Completely blank)
Inside of card: There are no words.

I refuse to drive over speed bumps

I feel reckless today. Almost stopped at a bus stop and offered everyone a ride. Had a dream about going to an Eminem concert last night, and I wasn’t even younger in my dream. It must be this new sense of accomplishment and freedom- my oldest just graduated from high school and the other two are visiting family for the next month or so.
I feel some writing coming on…