advice
Workplace advice for any issue, problem, or concern; from changing careers to co-working advice and decorating needs.
The people who built the machine
I have always considered myself one of those people who believed that most people are essentially good. I’ve always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt because, despite everything, I still want to have faith in humanity.
By mark bradley (mark45xxx)about a month ago in Journal
The Fourth Location
The ceremony itself was beautiful. Whatever came after, I want to be clear about that. It ended around noon, and the heat was already doing what Houston heat does in July — not just warm but committed, the kind that makes you aware of your own skin within thirty seconds of stepping outside. We'd dressed nicely. We were optimistic. We had an address for the reception.
By Bertyl Kentlyabout a month ago in Journal
My Father Kept Everything, and Sorting It Taught Me Who He Was. AI-Generated.
The workshop nobody wanted to open My father died in April, quietly, in the same Durban house he had lived in for forty years, and the hardest part was not the funeral. It was the workshop. He had a double garage that had not held a car since the nineties, packed floor to ceiling with the accumulated evidence of a man who genuinely believed that everything might one day be useful. Jars of screws sorted by size. Offcuts of teak he was saving for a project he never named. A drawer of watch parts, another of fishing reels, a shelf of radios in various states of surgery.
By Josh Maraneyabout a month ago in Journal
The Neighbour Who Taught Me to Preserve, and the Question That Changed My Little Business. AI-Generated.
The lemons that started it When we moved into the house in Glenhazel, the previous owners had left behind a lemon tree that produced with an almost aggressive generosity. Every autumn it buried us in fruit we could not possibly use, and I felt guilty watching them drop and rot on the paving. My neighbour, an elderly woman named Mrs Feldman who had lived on that street since before I was born, watched me one Saturday scooping fallen lemons into the bin and said, through the fence, in a tone that was more instruction than suggestion, that I should be ashamed and that she would teach me to make preserves instead.
By Josh Maraneyabout a month ago in Journal
I Came Home After Eight Years Away and Barely Recognised Myself. AI-Generated.
The return no one prepares you for Everyone warns you about leaving. Nobody warns you about coming back. I spent eight years in London, the first three thrilling and the last three grey and tired, and when my contract there ended and my mother's health started to wobble, I did the thing I had sworn for years I would never do. I came home to Johannesburg. I was thirty eight, single, with two suitcases and a head full of a city that no longer existed the way I remembered it.
By Josh Maraneyabout a month ago in Journal
