Seth Godin

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I was listening yet again...yes, I replay this podcast over and over again.. to Tim Ferriss' interview of the thoughtful Mr. Seth Godin. I  noted again his comment about what he does
when he starts to blog in his fave blogging host/template called "Typepad". He even describes the monthly fee he pays to keep his typepad blog running.
Seth went into a few deets of his secret to keeping his writing flowing saying when he opens up that blogging site he said

"I know what my brain needs to feel like" and then he gets his writing on.

He may write several blog posts and keep them as drafts but does not publish everything he writes. He writes until he feels that he has completed his task and then chooses the best of the bunch to publish to his blog.

Have you ever read Seth Godin's blog? check it out here: Seth Godin  .....it won't be a waste of your valuable time.

Late is ALWAYS better than never.

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So, this is me, living the dream, maybe not a big deal for you....but for a mom of four with a million responsibilities, it is literally heaven on earth.
So, what is this dream I am walking in today...my tan feet barely touching the ground?

Just doin what Tim Ferriss and a million other entrepreneurs do almost every day...sitting in a coffee shop with free wifi, sipping on a dark roast with steamed soy typing on a wee lap top.
Such a very big deal? Should I just get over it already? Well, in my sheepish defense, it IS a really big beal....because on this today, this very rare occasion, I am 100% alone, elle est solo....ALL by myself. Capish? No kids or hubby in tow. Secondly, this is my very own lap top. Not the fastest or the latest model, but it works and I'm bloggin at mock speed.

When you're a mom, other people's computers seem to take priority. So...it is with a rather fiendish delight that I walked into this shop with my lap top under my arm. This is a first for me. Hmmm, maybe next I'll have to shop for a little dog that fits in my purse.. A bit too Hilton-esque?

Maybe your dreams do not include creative writing at Starbucks, but hey, for today I am the dark roast blogging queen. Gonna relish it, bad grammar an' all.

Whoop...props to me... having a good hair day, and my fave shirt was with the clean laundry. I got the window seat and have an exquisite view of a crab apple tree in full blossom....voila the attached pic. My muscled fingers even figured out how to attach said pic to this blog.

Perhaps a decade late, but Late is ALWAYS better than never.
Turns out I've been ahead of the curve on the gluten free band wagon. Who knew?
You win some......and those days are the best.

May your dreams never die until you are ready to dismiss them by choice.
..completely satisfied and fulfilled.

Peace,
Carla.

Press Zero

To divest oneself of humanity may be more efficient...clean even.

Slick and sleek.

But what are we trying to prove? That we never need to hear a human voice? Never need another human being to help or serve us?

i am tired of self serve...gas stations and self scans at the grocery stores and department stores.
I am tired of choosing all my own options. I want to hear a friendly suggestion from a helpful polite
salesperson. I don't want to bag my own groceries. I don't want to count my own change.

I don't want to access the "automated" telephone system I can by pressing 5.

Sometimes I want to deal with someone like myself.... a messy imperfect human with imperfect scores. That's who I want to sell me something and punch in my sale into some kind of cash register. That is who I want to pump my gas or do my taxes. I was not born entirely by my own effort. My Mom had a lot to do with it, as well as some deft doctor and probably more than one nurse. We can not deliver ourselves into this world. We need each other. We always have and always will.
Needing other humans is not a character flaw.

So sometimes, I will not choose the automated efficient and speedy slick route. I will choose the slow and friendly route without robots and machines, and let another messy human serve me kindly. And yes, I will still press Zero.

Peace,
C.


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