Look, let's be honest here. The whole concept of "networking" makes most of us want to crawl into a hole and pull the dirt in after us. It conjures

It was during one of those interminable, bouts of treadmill that my radio based playlist decided to have with cosmic DJing. The track: "Quasimodo" by Lifehouse—a band I'd

So I'm sitting here, staring at this half-eaten Gala apple on my desk, possibly looking like The Son of Man. It's just an apple, you might say. Correction:

It's a curious thing, memory. It clings to certain moments with a tenacity that borders on the obsessive, while letting others slip away like sand in an hourglass[1]. It'

Picture, the archetypical American workplace. Fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like a swarm of caffeinated bees, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and quiet desperation. In this habitat of cubicles and