Tag Archives: Karen Abbott

Karen Abbott

At The Fencepost: April 4, 2012

Karen Abbott

by Karen Abbott

Help me understand 4G. Not the mechanics of a network, I’m beginning to grasp that after a few run-throughs with techno geeks. Help me understand the “need for speed,” as the commercial says.

I had to shake my head at the last commercial I’ve seen about these supposedly-great 4G networks.

Two married couples in their suburban driveways with their fancy SUVs were competing over how fast they could get the news and updates on the neighbors through their iphones or ipacs or whatever they are. They were racing over who knew about a neighbor’s giving birth who could deliver a gift the fastest. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

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Karen Abbott

At The Fencepost: March 28, 2012

Karen Abbott

by Karen Abbott

I’ve given much thought to my gasoline bill over the last week. It’s come to a place where I feel I need to “put up or shut up,” as I’ve heard it said through the years.
I refuse to sit at a desk and grouse about the high price of gas on my commute. I’ve decided to move.

I’ve known for awhile that I would be moving and that it was just a matter of when I’d do it.  There comes a time when one has to make change, rather than just wait and wait for external circumstances to be different.

It’s easy to get caught in a mode of blaming the government, or blaming the president, or blaming the boss, or blaming the economy for my quality of life (or lack thereof).

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Karen Abbott

At The Fencepost: March 21, 2012

Karen Abbott

by Karen Abbott

I’m dealing with a lot of uncertainty this week. Or not dealing with it, as the case may be.

I’m following several leads for additional employment, none of which is going fast enough to get me ahead in the cash flow game.  I turn my attention frantically from one career path to another, trying not to let any correspondence go unanswered nor any opportunities slip by.

It feels like roller skating against the flow of a crowd of teens on a Friday night.
I had that experience, years ago, at the Bilou skating rink. We used to go skating there on the weekends. A rush of air braced us when we stepped inside, a little whirlwind caused by the counter-clockwise whoosh of skaters all straining in the same direction.

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