I have a friend, lets call her Alice. Alice is a successful woman. That’s understating it a bit, that’s understating it a lot. Alice has brokered literal billion dollar deals in business, has a family, a home, strike that, two homes and has been elected to a prominent public office working for the struggling people of her state. It’s enough to make you feel like the prize pig at a giraffe contest. The biggest deal I’ve negotiated was getting Amazon to let me return an item 3 days after the return window closed. Yet, when I talk to Alice for any period of time what I notice most is her sense of fragility. With all she has done, she still seems to be wobbling on those long nimbly legs, unable to fully support that graceful neck. It’s just interesting. I don’t wish Alice any ill will at all. I love Alice. I just have to realize that I’m not in the giraffe contest. I have my own bacon to worry about.
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