Take Five

      Everyone's time has value.

      Everyone has twenty thousand things they absolutely must get done.

      Once I billed for my time.  When you do that, you learn to prioritize. You have to.

      But lately those skills seem to have slipped away from me a little, partially because I love to find new ways to spin my wheels and procrastinate and watch minutes tick away in different and momentarily fascinating ways, but also because I've been making a small effort to try to accommodate people and be more tactful than I normally am.    

      Eh. That's not all it's cracked up to be.

      Bottom line is this: Your time is not more valuable than mine. Don't tell me you can't spare a second when I see you handing out seconds all over the internet as if you're a World War II G.I. giving out Hershey bars and nylons. Or even if I don't.

      If I can spare you a minute of my time, I expect a minute back from you. This goes for anything, whether it's errands and obligations or emailing, Tweeting, blogging or the lost hours I've spent critiquing your tome, only to get the following in return from you: "It's good. I didn't find anything wrong with it."

      My time has a price: It's reciprocity.
      So I intend to become a whole lot scarcer. Here and elsewhere.

      Think I'll take five now. It's time to cull the herd.