Twenty-three songs in a row to fit my mood.

The joy of the perfect shuffles playlist can make all the difference in a work day.

I recently cut back half of my library, to only include those songs that I have actually rated.  It makes for better listening and less song skipping.  Plus it frees up more room to add more podcasts.

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Stiff necks and fixed ideas

The people in charge in most organizations today are part of the Baby Boomer generation, brought up by parents born before World War II, and trained in schools and universities during the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s.

Slow Leadership has posted an interesting article today on this subject that plagues the younger generation work force. While plagues tends to be a bit sensational, it is a common theme among many contemporary authors. I will also say that the public school system of not only the 1950s but today were designed in the late 1800s. While I feel that hopefully, we are  seeing some positive changes in society, this article gives an interesting and increasingly heard perspective on this issue that entangles so many aspects of our lives.

More than just just office supplies.

While sitting down to my normal morning routine prior to my 7.30 meeting I came to realize that I had left my favorite pen at home.

I turned to Google for advice and was asked if I had really meant, “What to do if I left my favorite pet at home.”   I also came across such questions as “Would you leave your child at home?”  It quickly became obvious that the internet did not give a shit about my estranged writing utensil and the more I looked for sympathy through my web browser It became more apparent that I am truly useless because I do not own a Moleskin notebook.  Further searching on Flicker helped support this evidence.

So with three minutes left until my meeting I will contemplate driving the fifteen minutes home for lunch to get my pen for the next, oh, four hours.
 

Try to make sense of it.

Reinstating ourselves.

That was nearly nearly a year ago.

I worked there only three months, and yet I am missed. 

Now everyone is moving on. 

It’s about time.

We thought we were so old.

On campus, looking at the mirror of mortality, still uncertain if I envy them.

Better than any time before.

Watching my oldest son who is five, watching the Wizard of Oz for the first time.