that every time you sit down to make
calls to try and book yourself a speaking
gig, you mysteriously find yourself
pulled into Facebook for hours, turn off
the Internet, or go someplace to make
your calls where you can’t get online.
Like a park. Or your car. Or Antarctica.
And then decide that you have to make
five calls before you can check back in
and see if anyone commented on the
picture you posted of your cat eating a
potato chip.
tuis.
(Tuis.)
#1