Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of February 11, 2018
• Every time I meet with a recruiter, I feel as if they’re sizing me up for how they can best exploit my talent for their financial gain. The next time I meet with one, I’m going to blast out a sonic-rattling fart then let its heat and stench consume the oxygen in the room before breaking the tension with, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
Kids who had race car beds probably grew up to work in finance with an inflated ego, a coke habit, and wildly premature ejaculation issues. But for that moment in third grade, they were gods.