Avoidance
Six Sentences After Four Years
I came back from the walk, opened the laptop, and sent the email. After four years of mental drafts, what I actually typed was about six sentences.
The Real Deadline
The attorney's scheduling email arrived at 8:47 this morning. The consultation is Tuesday. Now I have to figure out what I'm actually going to say.
The Email I Keep Not Sending
She's asked me every December for four years if I've thought about going independent. The answer is now yes. I haven't told her yet.
The Intake Form
I knew what I needed to do next. I had known for 48 hours. I opened the form and sat there for eight minutes before I typed anything.
The Agreement I Signed in 2002
I finally Googled the one thing I'd been avoiding. The answer was: go find the document you signed 24 years ago, which you do not currently have.
The List I Won't Write Down
I have Googled almost everything about this plan. There is one thing I have not Googled, and the gap is telling.
The Productive Version of Hiding
I spent Saturday morning building a competitive landscape instead of having a conversation.