I urge you to protect your good name and refuse to sign such unworthy and inaccurate missives in the future.
These are the four goals I’ve set for myself this year.
And now a quick update (because we’re already 11 days into January.
Goal 1: Doing well on this front.
Goal 2: No progress to report on this front. When I’m busy, this is the first thing that falls off my to do list. That needs to change if I want to live to be 94 or 97, like my two grandmothers did.
Goal 3. Major success. Will have more to say about this in a few months’ time.
Goal 4. Have come up with a plan. Happy and excited about the possibilities on this front.
When we reach beyond ourselves, maybe, just maybe, we set in motion something that will resonate through those tied to us in ways we might not foresee.
Because today (December 22) is the shortest day of the year, it’s the day when we celebrate the shortest but most brilliant form of literature, the short story. (It’s actually a UK holiday, but the rest of us are encouraged to join in.) You can listen to short stories on the National Short Story Day website. Or write a very short one of your own (ten words maximum) and share it via Twitter.
If you’re looking for a terrific short story to read at some point during the day, here’s a link to one of my all-time favourites, Charles D’Ambriosio’s Her Real Name.
Finally, here’s a roundup of the short story collections I’ve read over the past year, along with mini-reviews of each.
Here we were, a generation of workers fueling the largest expansion of business since the transcontinental railroad and we didn’t have living wage jobs or benefits. The bigger these companies got, the more we were asked to give. The start-up model where everyone worked 72 hours a week and got paid nothing had become the new standard of productivity and wage rates.