• Life in Realtime

    I’m late, again. He stands, says hello, gives me a hug. “How long have you been waiting?” I ask, dreading the answer. He shrugs. “About ten minutes.” I study the pavement intently. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay,” he says, and I believe him, but still. “I just thought you were here already.” “I was here, except

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  • Too Late

    I’m writing this post because I’m procrastinating on my current copywriting assignment. This is the current state of my affairs: I do productive things to put off other productive things. That isn’t a humble brag—I’m not that disciplined. I’m just that busy. And sleep is a necessary thing, apparently. (I keep trying to pretend it

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  • Disagreeing with People

    The internet, for all its joys and wonders, has become a place rife with opinions, even and especially ludicrously unnecessary ones. (Such as whether or not a hot dog is a sandwich. It’s not. Don’t @ me.) We’ve created a culture in which everyone must have an unshakeable opinion about everything. And on these social

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  • Time

    The problem with time is that it passes. I’m reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan. In chapter nine of his book, he describes Christians who gave up their lives to service—men and women who sold all they had, left their homes, and worked with the poor and needy; or those who stayed put in their

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