When Good is Not Good Enough

What do you do when your best isn’t good enough?

MiddleMe

You received your graded paper, the paper that you worked all summer, only to get a D. You worked hard and overnight to rush through a project for a customer, only to have it rejected outright within minutes of submission. You walked into the office on Monday morning to be called into your boss’ office to get scream at for a project that you weren’t even in charge of.

What happens when your good is not good enough for others? Do you vent frustrations on yourself, on others? Do you push responsibility to others and not yourself? Do you blame yourself and wish you can die on the spot? 

It happened to me too! 

In fact, it can happen to anyone and everyone. Nobody is perfect to begin with and sometimes expectations are not align or there is misunderstanding in the communication or maybe you are just having a bad…

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Twittering Tales: The 10-Second Memoir

The 10-Second Memoir

Before Prozac, I once stormed the streets of this City like a mob with conviction, like a Godzilla in search of King Kong.

118 Characters

(c) Rob Goldstein 2019

This is an entry for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales #145 – 16 July, 2019

Twittering Tales Kat Myrman

 

Tranquil Cove #Writephoto

Grock this new story from D. Wallace Peach

Myths of the Mirror

photo by Sue Vincent

The beach parking lot was jammed with cars. Outside their blue rental, Samantha stretched her stiff limbs while Jeff rummaged in the back seat for snacks and towels. A tow truck clanked its chains and ground its gears in the midst of hauling away one of several abandoned vehicles, the windshields dusted with a week’s worth of windblown sand.

According to the glossy pamphlet, the rocky headlands and clustered islands sheltered turquoise waves, and the soft sand welcomed blankets and picnics. All inviting. But after days of battling crowds of tourists, the feature that most appealed to Sam was the promised solitude. Unfortunately, Tranquil Cove didn’t look like it would live up to its reputation.

She sighed and read the sign pounded into the sand at the lot’s edge. Someone had hand-scrawled a sloppy “g” on the otherwise formal warning.   “Beware of the grocks. No…

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