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I can't sleep…

I watched from a distance. A short, feisty, scrappy, spit-fire. A Chihuahua.
Place of Birth: The Bronx. With accompanying accent.
Deep skills. A reputation for getting things done, but doing so and leaving a large wake. She didn’t tolerate fools gladly. She was quick to show up colleagues. Result: A bulls-eye on her back.
It was January, 2011. It was a 12-minute interview. I told her that the job was hers sans the wake creation. I would have zero tolerance for air turbulence. I created enough of my own.
I went on to give her the pre-game disclosure. And motivational speech:
You’re playing on the A team now. Out of junior varsity.
We use proper English in our memos and letters.
No slang. Or whatever that is coming out of your mouth.
I need to show up at the right airport. At the right meeting. On time. All the time.
No crying when your feelings get hurt. You want a hug, get a dog.
I had better not find HR in my office on any antics.
You won’t keep up. Just accept it. Continue reading “Simpatico”
I love when “Research” validates what I’ve believed to be true for years.
Source: themetapicture.com
We’re in a mood:
“Give Me a Smile.
I don’t feel like it.”
No sharing of inspiring posts of the week. It’s Hump Day and we’re going to pile-drive smiles into the head with a Meta Picture blitz:
Image Source: Headlikeanorange. Quote Source: sleepwalking.nu from Vivre Sa Vie (1962)