The Creative Nest

You know that feeling when you sit down to write an email and actually put some thought into it? I mean real thought. You organize your thoughts, explain the situation, include the important details, provide context, and maybe even reread the whole thing three times because you want to make absolutely certain the person on the other end cannot possibly misunderstand what you're saying. You carefully choose your words, make sure the information is in the right order, and perhaps even add a little background information because you know that without it, your question might not make sense. Eventually, you hit send and sit back feeling pretty good about yourself. “Okay,” you think. “That was clear. There is absolutely no way this could be misunderstood.” And then the response arrives. You open it, read it once, and immediately get that strange feeling in your stomach. You read it again because surely you must have missed something. Then you go back and reread your original email bec...

There are certain moments in life when you realize things have gotten a little ridiculous. Like when your dog looks at you because you opened a bag of chips, when you walk into a room and immediately forget why you went there, or when you pull up to the gas station, look at the price on the sign, and quietly whisper, “Absolutely not.” Unfortunately, the car still needs gas. And right now, gas is hovering around $4.15 a gallon. Four dollars and fifteen cents. For gasoline. The stuff that goes into my car and then disappears. Honestly, I feel like I should at least get a tiny gift bag when I fill up. Maybe a candle. Perhaps a little cheese plate. At these prices, I expect the gas station attendant to hand me a receipt and say, “Thank you for your purchase. Your personal financial advisor will be in touch.” I drive a Subaru. It is a perfectly nice vehicle, but it is not a Bentley. It does not have a personal chauffeur. It does not serve me champagne. It doesn't even automatically brin...

There comes a point in adulthood when you realize that having a good handyman is almost as valuable as having a good hairdresser, a trustworthy mechanic, and a doctor who actually calls you back. If you have one, you know exactly what I mean. You find someone who shows up when they say they will, does what they said they were going to do, charges a reasonable amount, and—this is important—doesn’t leave you standing in your driveway wondering if you just paid someone $400 to make the problem slightly more interesting. And then you have a decision to make. Do you call your trusted handyman and say, “Hey, can you take a look at this?” Or do you get three quotes? I have discovered that there are apparently two kinds of homeowners. There are the “I have a guy” people. Then there are the “I need at least three estimates so I can compare the labor, materials, warranty, and the astrological alignment of Mercury” people.  I understand both sides. Getting multiple quotes makes sense. Sometim...