I’m a deadline-driven procrastinator. If a project doesn’t have a deadline, it will be done the day after never; If it does, it will never be early and will probably be a wee bit late. I work best under pressure—the ridiculous, self-imposed, pull-an-all-nighter kind of pressure that stresses me out and pulls my family in.
I didn’t even know you could buy postcards with preprinted stamps, but apparently they’re all the rage in the 43130 zip code. We received one this week from Hank, the gentleman who cares for our lawn. It wasn’t anything fancy, as you can see for yourself. It was handwritten. Concise. To the point.
There’s only one thing I like spending money on more than dental work and lawn care, and that’s shelling out a few hundred bucks for auto maintenance. You gotta’ do it, but it stinks. So it was with great joy that I contacted several local tire shops to price new treads for one of our cars. (Guys, this is like your wife asking you to buy her a lipstick.)
I’m a retailer, a supplier, just another B in the B2B world. But most days
I’m also a consumer, a customer, a Ms. Jones in heels and in a hurry. I’ve
been on both sides of the customer service counter.
She was aloof. She was afraid. Yet she was needy. She showed up at our front door with a bloated belly and a pitiful, “Meow.” This stray cat soon treated us to five little kittens born in our back yard. We cared for them from the day they were born, then found homes for all of them. except one. We kept one kitten who has grown into an very ungrateful cat.
Loading ...