The other day, I opened the kitchen drawer to grab a sheet of leftover newspaper that I use to cover my kitchen counter from splatters and noticed I was down to my last sheet. I can’t get an actual newspaper delivered to my home anymore. There are no carriers in my neighborhood. I remember spreading

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We create our stories, we repeat our stories, we believe our stories. Joel told me he’s not the kind of person to punch his fist through a wall when he’s aggravated. He’s a department chair at a university and if you’ve ever met a university department chair, they’re pretty accustomed to wading around in politically

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Not my Type

In the latter part of the last century, there was a story going around about a woman law student in the graduating class before me who was asked whether she knew how to type in a job interview. Back in the days before we had computers, the internet and ChatGPT, there were typewriters, machines with

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Memory Matters

I’ve been thinking a lot about my memories —the silly ones I retain, the important ones I don’t have access to any longer. It haunts me. The memories wash up like unremarkable and practically identical seashells on the shore, cluttered together with no apparent rhyme or reason. I can’t distinguish one from another or where

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