Brief but real feelings of confusion followed by one of the best poems ever…

Friday. Tired from a week of constant barrage of e-mail, calls, issues, and people. Finished the last call of the day. Completely finished, wasted, empty arrived at the dinner table. Across are sitting two beautiful children excited that I am theirs at last. But work got the best of me again leaving little for them…

Last week was devoted to Canada. Fairmont Château Laurier was impressive. The event was executed perfectly. My small piece went better than I had expected. In preparation, I learned a few things about the government in Canada. After the event, in a chat, I learned about a thought that could …

Our kindergarten teacher once told my mother that she thought I was a “մտավոր հետամնաց (mentally lagging)”. Couple weeks later we were given small paragraphs to learn for a performance. I brought home the handwritten piece of paper so my mother could teach me what I had to say. She instead corrected seven or eight grammatical and spelling errors with red ink and asked me to take it back to the teacher…

In many cases, I find it very helpful to start fresh from a clean slate. My mother’s strict rules of neatness and cleanliness, or my father’s requirements for order in everything, or some genetic switch someplace on either or both sides of the family tree have resulted in what my wife calls a clear case of OCD. As expected, I am convinced that this need for order is not a disorder (she thought “auditory” as she finished reading that)…