Oh, to be a dog. I wake up most mornings, wrestle with the existential dread of my alarm clock, glance at the piling bills on the counter, and then cast an envious eye at my furry housemates -- the boss' dogs -- who are belly-up, snoring like contented chainsaws. And that’s when the thought hits me, almost daily: pets, particularly dogs, have it ridiculously easy.
There are few things in this grand, baffling theatre of life that bring me quite as much unadulterated, slightly cynical joy as scrolling through my social media feed and encountering the latest wave of hyper-inspirational, motivation-on-steroids posts.
I'm back on the tipping thing. It's a debate that isn't going away any time soon!
Is it just me, or does customer service take forever now? I find myself asking this question almost every time I need to interact with a company, and the answer, sadly, is almost always a resounding "no, it's not just me."
It made international headlines — for good and bad reasons — when a New Jersey restaurant banned children under 10 years of age. You already know the two sides of the story without hearing it: Yesssssss! and That’s so unfair.
With the cost of everything going up, it’s had many people figuring out how to save a little more -- or a lot more, let's be honest.
There I was, innocently scrolling through my social media feed, minding my own business, perhaps contemplating the existential dread of another Tuesday, when it happened.
Every time I scroll through my social media feed and see someone proudly proclaiming a new follower milestone – whether it’s 1,000, 10,000 or even 100,000 – a little part of me cringes.
I think back on my time as a student walking the halls of my school… and occasionally skipping class. I remember how life was carefree, I felt safe and looked forward to growing up and making something of my life.
I’ve commented before about how customer service ain’t what it used to be. Because of that, I find I want to deal with companies less and less. If that was their goal, well, mission: accomplished.
Alright, let's talk about real estate agents. No, not about their tireless work, their market knowledge or their uncanny ability to make a dusty open house smell faintly of lemon and desperation -- or fresh cookies with nary a baked good in sight.
It seems like when I write one commentary about social media, I'm instantly reminded of something else that annoys me about the platforms -- or, at least the people on the platforms.
When Airbnb first burst onto the scene, I, like many others, was instantly captivated. It felt revolutionary, a breath of fresh air in the often-stuffy world of travel accommodation. The idea was simple, yet brilliant: why stay in an impersonal hotel room when you could live like a local, stepping into someone else's beautifully curated home, even if just for a few days?
I was recently passing one of our TVs that was showing a racecar event, the kind where the roar of the engines is a familiar soundtrack. As the spectacle ramped up, the announcers prepared viewers for the opening ceremony, of sorts.
Every other day the world is treated to another vicious video of a teenager being attacked at school while onlookers giggle and record with their phones. (And I use the word “treated” sarcastically because the videos are usually disgustingly disturbing.)
Let's be unequivocally clear: your workplace is not your family. And honestly, when companies insist on presenting their workforce as a "family," I find it utterly obnoxious, bordering on insulting.
There are moments in life that stick with you – your first car, your first terrible haircut, the first time you realized that artisanal kale smoothies were actually just a fancy way to drink grass.
To play a casino game on my phone I needed to give the app access to my address book, photos, videos and grant permission to record audio. Hmm… now, let’s see if I can figure out how my personal information and files could be compromised.
For whom are you living? It’s something I ask during new year’s resolution season but all year-round when I scroll social media.
Are disclaimers catering to snowflakes? Let me give you some context so that question makes sense.
I’ve heard it, you’ve heard it – it’s practically gospel in business circles: the food industry is the toughest game in town. The margins, they say, are razor-thin. Restaurants struggle to stay afloat, operating on mere pennies of profit per dollar.
Suck it up and get ready to work your fingers. It’s the last thing you want to be doing but you have no choice.
Want me to do it? Want me to do it? No? Well, why are you teasing me?
Gas prices are through the roof and the cost of bacon is ridiculous. (Let's not get started on the price of eggs.) That was the consensus last weekend at a family celebration. Yes, we have deep conversations in our family.
