The Creative Nest

I have recently decided that I need a hobby. Not because I don’t have enough things to do. Quite the opposite, actually. I have plenty of things to do. I simply seem to have reached a point in life where I feel like I should have something I do purely because I enjoy doing it. You know… a hobby. Something fun. Something creative. Something that doesn’t involve a computer, a spreadsheet, an email, or somebody asking me if I’ve had a chance to look at something yet. This seemed like a fairly harmless idea. It was not. Because apparently, finding a hobby is not as simple as thinking, “Knitting looks fun. I’ll try knitting.” No. First, you have to research knitting. Then you discover knitting machines. Then you discover there are different knitting machines. Then you discover some knitting machines make tubes and some make flat panels. Then you discover different types of yarn. Then you discover that certain yarns work better with certain machines. Then you watch a woman on YouTube make an...

Let’s talk about one of life’s little delights: someone getting angry with you and deciding that you are apparently the perfect place to dump every ounce of frustration they have been carrying around since 1997. You know the situation. You’re minding your own business, having a perfectly ordinary day, when suddenly someone comes at you with an attitude that makes you wonder if you accidentally wandered into a fight you weren't informed about. And your first instinct is usually very mature. Very reasonable. Very adult. Ninja kick to the shoulders. Obviously, we don't do that. Probably. Instead, we stand there trying to figure out what the hell just happened while our brain cycles through approximately seventeen possible responses, ranging from “I'm sorry, are you talking to me?” to “This conversation has been terminated due to excessive stupidity.” The hard part is knowing what to do when someone lashes out at you without allowing their behavior to drag you into the same emo...

Some people have an imagination. I have a fully staffed risk-management department. I don't know exactly when this happened, but somewhere along the way, my brain decided that simply experiencing life wasn't enough. No. Every tiny questionable detail must be investigated, analyzed, cross-referenced, and presented to a committee that apparently has unlimited funding and absolutely no regard for my peace. I can see one little thing that seems… off, and my brain immediately goes, “Interesting. Let's explore every possible explanation.” Oh, you mean every possible explanation? Apparently. Before I know it, we've gone from “Huh, that's weird” to a 47-page internal report titled Potential Scenarios, Associated Risks, Secondary Risks, and Things That Could Possibly Happen If That One Thing Is Actually Something. Nobody asked for this report. Nobody commissioned this report. And yet here it is. With appendices. The funny thing is, I don't necessarily consider myself a ...