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interrupted
It’s been almost 2 years since my last Pet Peeve blog, and I’m sure you have been tossing and turning sleeplessly, wondering what else really gets under my skin. Well, wait no longer, put on your footie PJs and prepare for a blissful night of rest. I hate to be interrupted. News flash, right? I mean, really, who DOES like to be interrupted? No one that I know. And yet… Have you found yourself in a conversation, talking about a particular topic, telling someone a story, or making a thoughtful observation, only to be “talked over” by your alleged listener,
My Momma Told Me…Pay Attention to Where You Get Your Advice  Facebook is full of information, opinions, advice, and pictures of cats. It can be a humungous time suck, giving you that yucky feeling of having spent hours looking at stuff which ultimately lowers your quality as a human being. But I digress. Every now and again on social media, I come upon a gem of an idea, concept, thought or feeling that totally washes away the horrifying afterglow of seeing your 3rd grade English teacher in her bikini…50 years after she taught you. I read one of these “keepers”
One of the blessings, or curses, of publishing your own thoughts in a public forum is the ability to go back and reread these scattered tidbits months or years, or even decades, later. You can almost follow the trail of thoughts, like breadcrumbs back through your evolution of thinking. I recently had the opportunity to do this, and ran smack dab into a 180 degree turnaround in my way of thinking. Ruh roh. As a printer who also likes to write, I publish pieces in some industry-related periodicals from time to time. One such piece, written 2.5 short years ago