A few weeks ago my mother called out of the blue just to chat. My mother - actually neither of my parents for that matter - is not a person who likes to make casual conversation with me. I come from a long line of awkward talkers. So she called to shoot the breeze and then jumped into the meat and potatoes of her needs. She hemmed and hawed and finally asked that I call a few people to find out whether or not they are hiring because Garrett, my younger brother, needs a job.

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Things started off innocently enough. The occasional trip through the store; a behomoth of a warehouse, gripping tightly to my mother's arm as she flipped oversized tags to reveal a price of $8.99 for four pillows. I don't recall the first purchases but I do recall the swedish meatballs and how after each walk through my brother and I would be rewarded with a cinnamon roll.

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There is a right way and a wrong way to react to workplace
situations though there is some room left for a little gray matter. For
example when your boss throws a hissy fit (or presents a possibly valid
argument in a very rude and potentially destructive manner) in the
middle of a hotel lobby and in turn you respond by doing the same thing
by yelling your head off in the middle of a forest of fake trees. Of
course this is your defensive nature speaking after months of enduring
his repetitive difficult nature but no matter because you're still the

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I once interned for my predecessor and I have since inherited his office. While he is a generally lovely and helpful person he had one of those offices where you would walk in on any given day and try to step over reams of paper stacked against the walls and on the floor. And take care not to tread on an important document from 1974. He took his paper with him, but left me with binders from 1998 that have yet to be looked through and a drawer that seems as if he decided to hide the evidence of a paper factory explosion gone awry.

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I've been fascinated by the recent New York Times article
about writers who 'blog till they drop' and the subsequent response it
has garnered. Perhaps because yesterday I found myself churning out
words while on a train into Manhattan while my coworkers sitting across
from me laughed and joked and drank tiny bottles of wine. Meanwhile I
sat there typing away pretending to be engaged in their conversation

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> HeatherB’s blog posts