Pardon the clichéd title of the post, but to capture what I wanted to, something else wouldn't have cut it. Okay, so something happened last week, something phenomenal. Between 7 change in briefs, confused clients, stale dinners, messy closets, messier minds and an unspectacular weekend, something remarkable happened. I have started to enjoy The New Yorker. Yupe, that's the story. That's about it. I'm sorry if I've led you to expect something life changing. Non. Just that I am now into the new yorker. I get it. No it wasn't on my 2011 new year resolution, but every writer I respect and love to read, reads the new yorker. No it wasn't exactly in the aspirational space, but yeah I did feel I was missing out on something. But, my attempts [yes, I use the word attempt, because that's what it was] at reading the recommended articles, would fail. Say somewhere in page 3, I would stop getting it. And then move to the lighter reads.
Everything changed in the past week. I read an article, that came highly recommended by a favorite blogger. I read the whole thing, and understood whatever was there to understand. When I say the feeling was almost calming, I kid you not. Calming like when you get your corner office with a view.
