Nearly 80% of us would be interested in dropping out of the FT workforce to go freelance.
I have a tendency to stick my head in the sand and pretend that my bank account isn’t even there.
I’m pretty good at some things. I’m a fast reader, I can bake really delicious gluten-free peanut butter cookies from scratch, and I’m excellent at making up answers to questions I don’t actually know much about. If anything, I am sometimes overconfident in my abilities. Yet any ideas I have about having gift for public speaking are entirely fantasy.
But what is the definition of can’t afford? I had enough in my checking account to buy the ticket, so I could afford it. That’s what “afford” means, right? The rest will all sort itself out eventually.
idle hands are the devil’s Gilt sprees
Madison won’t tell you how many hundreds of people touched my hair in the twenty-three years I lived there without asking first and called it “neat.”
“Your father,” she said, “never spent a penny of his money on you. You were in ratty clothes, all but rags, but he drove a nice new car.”