As a syndicated reporter on the careers beat (among others), I write often about prioritizing work tasks and increasing productivity. Several experts I interviewed offered the same advice: “Eat the frog first.” The “frog” is your biggest, most important task of the day. The one you dread and might otherwise put off. If you complete […]
Listening is a superpower that can land you a job and make puppets look like they feel special.
Goodbye, Gideon. I miss your insistent head butts.
Jeff got grits in my Thanksgiving feast. I got death on his Christmas tree. Together, we’re like a Reese’s peanut butter cup. Or something.
This post is about how I’m accumulating almost as many sunglasses as shoes, stupid shit that kids do, and what my cat Wilkie has in common with a certain famous cannibal.
We have all gotten the message by now that sitting is the most dangerous activity in the world besides commercial tuna fishing. Here’s how I pedal a bike and do computer work at the same time.
I reported last month that Jeff and I are a Perfect Couple. As has since been pointed out to me, there is no such thing as a Perfect Couple — if "perfect" means never disagreeing. But though our relationship is more akin to a storm or a mess, I still maintain we’re the Perfect Couple. (And we might actually stay that way provided I stop writing about the poor guy without his permission!)
Part of me has always thought it’s a shame I don’t want kids because I’d be so good at helping them with schoolwork. Not long division or algebraic functions, mind you, but artsy projects involving poster board, glue sticks, Magic Markers and shoe boxes.