As irritated as I am with the misuse of the possessive “your” in place of the contraction “you’re,” I’ve been hesitant to point it out publicly, knowing that by doing so, I am setting my own writing up for scrutiny that it may not be able to withstand. And yet, I’m finding that by holding my frustration in, my back molars are in danger of being ground down to nubbins. So, for the sake of my teeth, permit me to elaborate on what is probably a non-issue for most people.
Incorrectly typing your instead of you’re weakens a sentence and kills the credibility of the person who birthed it in the same way that some pioneer women’s weak uteruses caused them to perish in childbirth along the Oregon Trail.
It’s all about the contractions.
Let me explain.
Immediately following the birth of my first baby, the delivery room nurses had to rush to administer the contraction-inducing substance, Pitocin, to me i...
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about perfume gift sets, it’s that I can’t put this year’s bottle configuration back in last year’s box. Most companies’ Christmas gift box offerings change each year—sometimes it’s the size of the bottles, sometimes it’s the different products that are featured. And the sets are always packaged in molded plastic inserts designed for those particular products.
It’s kind of the same with the new year. If I really want this year to be different from the last then I can’t expect to fit it in last year’s box. 2017 is a different shape than 2016, and the old box it came in can’t contain the new. I’ll need to adjust my attitude, expectations and habits if I truly want some things to change in my life. It’s not about making sweeping resolutions; it’s about catching myself when I’m being chronically unmindful of my blessings, or stopping my arrogance in its tracks w...
I tend to be a fidgety, hurried person. I walk too fast, talk too fast and spill a lot of coffee during any given day. I can accomplish quite a bit when I really put my mind to it, but usually all my hurrying doesn't seem to give me an edge over slower people. Slower movers tend to get things done right. I mess things up in my jerky way and then have to go back to fix mistakes, and fixing things takes a lot of time.
Yet, I've come to the conclusion that my fast pace is actually a symptom of laziness.
Really, it is.
Because I don't like being bothered to do stuff I don't want to do, I end up doing those things fast just to get them over with. I run from my car to the front door of the school I work in each day just to get the distance over with. I walk like I'm fleeing from the rain, even on sunny days. It's all in a bid to cover even short distances in as little time as poss...