Operating at Full Potential

Recently I purchased a t-shirt from my children’s school that reads Operating at Full Potential.  Don’t you love this?

The message is particularly apt for me, because these days I’m only dreaming of peak performance.

And yet, some weeks are just like that.

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Getaways and Taking Your Breath Away

I’m back! No, I haven’t run off to Tahiti although the notion of a clean getaway from the crush of life does sound appealing.  In fact, I’m sitting at one of my favorite writing haunts, The St. Mark’s Coffeehouse, looking at the following anonymous message scribbled in pink chalk: Let’s runaway together. Just you and me. I haven’t even met you yet but I’m ready. Let’s go.

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Bad Moods, Laundry and Hope for Tomorrow

All week I’ve been a grump. Blame it on a full plate and empty fuel tank.  You know how it goes…squeezing work and then writing time on my off days, hauling my kids all over town yet still catching slack for not buying the Halloween costumes in time for their school parties (hey I’ve still got six days!), catching still more slack for not wanting to spend  $39.99 on the puffy suma wrestler

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Where The Wild Things Are

We’re having a bee problem: yellowjackets are swarming our house.  They’ve infiltrated the kitchen and hallway, and built a small army in my daughter’s room.  Rebecca refuses to sleep there. I can’t blame her.  Just the other day we pulled back the bedding and discovered the queen bee staking new territory amidst her floral blue sheets.

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Birthdays and Everyday Gifts

A new friend recently celebrated her 40th birthday.  Happy Birthday Mary! Her big day brought me back in time to my own 40th birthday, and to reflecting more broadly about markers.

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Slackers, Swine Flu and Gratitude

I feel like a slacker for not blogging this week although I do have a good excuse.  A sick household.  First, my daughter, Rebecca, came home from school on Monday with a fever, and then, POW, Steve got swine flu the next day.  I don’t think our daughter had “the thing,” but Steve’s been knocked out hard for days, in bed, with fever, chills, nausea, a ferocious cough, heavy chest and total

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Two Left Feet and Breaking a Sweat

In my previous entry, I humbly acknowledged two left feet when it comes to technology.  Case in point: last night while trying to ramp up my Linked In connections I thought I was being quite clever by uploading and then drawing from my 285 gmail contacts. Naturally, I hadn’t intended to invite my 97-year-old aunt Helen, but I did, along with all the other 284 people, too, some of whom

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Please Call Your Mother

A few days ago while at work, a friendly young man came to set up a printer.  This was James’ second visit.  The previous afternoon he analyzed the problem: “the thing’s busted,” he tells me, his arms crossing his chest in apology.  Eager to please, James actually installed the new printer without my knowing it.  He strode into the conference room where I sat helping a colleague fold campaign pamphlets for a large mailing. “You’re good to go Nancy,” he announces with puckish pride.

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