…we’re all a little too close to each other at times.
Well, let me explain.
The other day I was sitting in my usual writing spot, in my most favorite coffee shop, and I met up with a guy writing–by hand in cursive mind you–letters to various dignitaries and the such. You know, “Dear Madam Secretary Clinton, Dear Distinguished Fellow With Tons of Money and Influence, blah blah blah…
I couldn’t help but ask him if he thought writing letters, sans a keyboard and mouse, was a dying art form.
I mean, cursive. Seriously?
To boot, it was really nicely written cursive with a Baroque style of flare, clean even lines, and a detail even Da Vinci would marvel. Turns out, he didn’t feel that writing in cursive was a dying art form, and even felt that by making his letter personalize in such a way that the chances of him acquiring his ideal job would be further extended in the land of possibilities. Interesting thought but everyone knows that jobs, especially the ones that truly matter, are not made in the way you use syntax to compose a business letter, but rather in how you compose your noggin’ to know folks who also know folks who also know folks.
In earlier news, I’m still in a holding pattern and I’m learning that within a certain element of chaos within a disorganized platform, a tiny bit of inspiration will often fill a room. So, I’m hanging loose and trying to stay off the work grid for the moment.
More free time just may end up making me a much more free spirit.
Now, where did I place my running shoes?