pseydtonne: Behold the Operator, speaking into a 1930s headset with its large mouthpiece. (bright-blessings)
The next time I go to Toronto, I'm going to drive by a certain suburban office and give them the finger as hard as I can. Think Mooninite.

Then again, I felt the same way about an ex-girlfriend who lives in the same neighborhood but I don't feel that way anymore. I may not feel like flipping off said office once I finish fixing their problems, just as I don't feel bitter toward the woman who helped me get the virgin stench off me. They are helping me confront my fear of telling the customer what I know is true, just as they are helping me realize I should not get parental.

I need to walk a certain line, just as I did at all the other jobs. I must maintain an adult mind when I am at work. When I do that, I open myself to the heart of a customer's problems and helping them find their own solutions through my guidance. I am not shoving anything down anyone's throat: I am letting them forge their own path to the answer I think they need. Teach a man to fish, and he stops asking you why he can't have another fish. Teach a man to find a fishing hole and he'll even leave you alone so you can go skinny dipping... unless you want him to come with you and then you... okay, I'll stop.

I get to sleep in tomorrow (reveille at 7:40 instead of 6:40). Ah, the simple pleasures.

-I got the tag system to put the chorus lyrics in order. Now you're earwormed too. Don't I suck?

August 2016

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