A Reflection On What We Deem Acceptable
“What?! Eighty hours a week?!” “Yup,” I calmly replied. “You’re insane. I can’t believe you do that.” “It’s actually not that bad once you get used to it.” “When do you sleep?” “Ideally… five hours. I basically have a six-hour window after my second job to attend to the quotidian tasks. Though, I seldom achieve
Save for a photograph, I am unable to recall—even with feigned clarity—my first experience on the water. It must have been when I was approximately five or six years of age. The only photograph I possess of that day is mounted on the wall near my bedroom door. We (my mother, brother, and I; my
It is definitely worth asking: what motivates me? I tend to shy away from the autobiographical when it comes to my blog. However, I am slowly learning that the two are inextricably linked. If I am to write successfully about acceptance then I must abandon the goal of writing objectively, as it were. In other
I find something intangibly perfect and serene when it snows at night. Humans and animals are scarce and few sounds are audible. A snowy night seems a bit more silent than most nights. One can imagine the scene now: The forecast has proven true and clouds loom overhead. One dresses warm, but not too warm,
C'est Acceptable? 