In a long life in the beautiful world of work, I've run into my share of awful job interviews.
I have several springtime reorganization projects that I need to tackle. I'm never lukewarm about these projects. I either look forward to them or dread the entire thing.
Exactitude creeps into our lives at different times and places, depending on our personality.
I've known many people who need to come clean about the '60s and '70s. Come on, folks, your kids and grandkids won't flip out when they find out that you wore a pair of love beads, gave the peace sign, or dropped a tab.
It may have seemed as though I flit about Boston University's world my first two years there.
People who know me well enough know that I don't do a great job of long-term anger. I complain loudly, but it passes rapidly. Stoic I am not.
You get a sort of meager slumber. Night-Ops rumbling above, General Quarters can sound any time; and up you'd rise to your assigned station.
Let's see hitching rides in the rain with a hole in the sole of one shoe; squish squish to Boston. Owning one blanket, and the girlfriend who is staying over turns out to be a blanket hog; so romantic.
Hidden in every February is the coming spring.
I was obsessed with themes in my earlier life, well I guess I am still.