The box

They met in the wagon. It wasn't very crowded, but the moment their eyes met she felt she wanted to stay next to him. They'd be neighbors with a good conversation to share along ride. It would take more than four hours to get to the big city from their small village lost in the mountains. Luckily this time, she felt those hours wouldn't be polite chit-chat about the weather. After exchanging hellos, pleasantries and names he was still a bit shy and she asked first what took him to the city that day.
He seemed lost for a few seconds and seemed to struggle putting some order in his ideas. She turned her eyes to the landscape in the window while waiting for an answer. He closed his eyes to focus; he knew the answer very well, but it was not easy to put it into words.

It was more than four years since he had last been in this train.
His aunt had lived in the big city and he used to visit every other Saturday. She had a small house there but spent the better part of that year in the hospital, with breathing problems. The doctors could not figure out what it was. All tests did not reveal anything wrong, but sometimes she'd suffocate in her sleep. To make it through the night she had to stay tied to artificial lungs.
She used to spend her days tied to the television, her only endeavours outside were during his visits. They'd go in the courtyard enjoying the warm days of spring and sharing stories. It wasn't easy at first, they didn't know each other very well. Her brother, the young man's brother, disappeared when he was only a few months old. And his mother kept him away from her. She took him to meet her when he was five. But the visit brought back painful memories and the following visits got shorter and shorter and more and more far apart. It was hard for the mother to carry on, but she did because the aunt was the boy's only relative beside her; if something were to happen to her, she'd be his only family.
When mother went away the visits stopped. When he grew up he did not know how to reach her, she had moved to the big city and left no address.

She wrote him from the hospital. It was their first contact in twenty years. He was saddened to see her old and sick but also eager to finally find out more about the father that was never mentioned at home. His only memories of him were a few pictures he found hidden in a drawer under other papers. But now he'd come every fortnight to visit her and hear more stories about his dad.

And as hard to believe as it was, quite a story it was. His father had been working for the government. Officially, he was a diplomat. But in reality he was almost like a spy, going on secret missions to remote parts of the world. He couldn't talk much about his work and what he did in his travels. But beside the few bits he could reveal he'd tell his sister stories about the places he'd been to and the things he's seen. And now she'd tell the same stories to her nephew. Together they'd spend days following his footsteps in mysterious capitals on far-away continents, hoping he'd still be alive somewhere in this wide world and imagining what he'd look like when he comes back home.

But he did not return and time was passing by. The warm days of spring and then summer turned to gray autumn, and as the stories were nearing the end so was the aunt. It was getting increasingly difficult for her to speak the entire day even though the days were much shorter now. She'd need to stay more and more connected to the breathing apparatus. The days spend together turned to mere hours and then stopped completely. She was no longer in a state to receive visitors. Shortly afterwards, the young man received a second letter from the hospital, but the hand-writing was different.
He went there one last time to sort the last things remaining after her. There wasn't much left, her house and things were sold to pay for the hospital bills and cremation. He was given the few money left, along with a letter and a small box, both addressed to him. In that letter the aunt said goodbye and explained the box was from his father and it would tell his last story.

He spent long hours until he could open it, hoping it would be an answer to his father's mysterious disappearance. He did open it eventually and it overwhelmed the aunt's stories and even his vivid imagination...

His mind slowly returned to the present and the train, still not sure how to put all this in words that would make sense to his companion. He led a lonely life since that moment and never talked about it to anyone. The four years that had passed since still didn't make it easier for him to talk.
Indeed, that small box gave him the answer to his life-long questions about his father, but took away everything else. It isolated him even further from society; shortly after that, he parted ways with his small social circle and banal life and moved to that small village in the mountains, avoiding any human contact.
It was as hard as ever to share his secret with a stranger. How could he expect anyone to understand his story, particularly the unexpected ending? He knew every little detail and it was still hard for him to believe, this was the most exciting and dramatic thing that has ever happened to him. But in a way, he felt excited to share. It was his first chance in many years to get back among other people, to no longer be alone with this burden. At last, he decided: it was now or never. He opened eyes slowly and muttered "I'm going there to buy a drill for ceramic tiles". Then, as he took out a book from his waistcoat he continued just for himself: "Nosy bitch, don't you have games on your phone or something?"

Being a president has it perks

In my work with people, leaving a good impression is more important than everything else. And confidence is an important part of leaving a good impression. I am a high-level recruiter, and people's trust is crucial for my success. They put their future in my hands and need to know they can depend on me. Just like I know I can trust the fiber-rich-active-ingredients yogurt in those sensitive days. You know, when I have high-level meetings with people I may hire.

Like today. And I forgot mine at home. Thank god we have an intern now. I can focus on the agenda, he can focus on the yogurt; he's not doing much here anyway. Early start this morning, almost before half past ten. And by 11 the day already looks promising, just like the horoscope said it would be. My first lunch meeting is at 3, with someone that wants to grow in a multi-national, multi-cultural company. Sounds promising, you don't find many candidates with such high aspirations these days. And he's showing initiative, too. By the age of 35 he created his own one-person company and appointed himself president. What better way to relate to other people than working alone and calling yourself president? I think people tend to open up more easily to presidents.
Anyway, the position is local sales representative, which is huge. For that, president still sounds a bit limited, maybe. Let's see what else we have on the short list before jumping to conclusions. Thoroughness is very important when you're working with people. Not quite as important as a leaving a good impression, but it ranks very high nevertheless.

So far we have a mogul, two emperors and a level-eight chief ninja priest.
One emperor already mentioned he could only work part-time; in the morning he needs to drop the dynasty at the kindergarten and then he has another part-time job which he does not want to abandon because it has potential for brilliant growth. I wouldn't normally expect anyone to be able to work full-time in sales anyway, but his can't-do attitude about something that cannot be done ticked him off the list. Beside that, an emperor doesn't sound as promising as you may think, but that's okay, you're not expected to know that if you don't have my experience and feel for people. And if I picked the other one, how would I justify that to the former? Best to be diplomatic and drop them altogether.
The mogul mentioned something about a parole officer and a loan officer which may not be very enthusiastic about him working in anything that involves other people's money.
And there's the priest. Well, he put Latin in 'known languages', I'll give him that; he could probably understand those PowerPoint presentations with "Lorem ipsum" that I see everywhere, but other than that priests are not very experienced with Office applications and computers. And I happen to know for a fact they're rather lazy during the week and then try to make up for it during weekends. Not a great sign. And a sales job involves overtime. It's not written in the job description, but it's common knowledge, you are expected to know in advance. And the rest of his title sounds a bit made-up. 

Come to think of it, fingers crossed for the president, the more I think about it the more he seems to be the best fit. Oh, and before I forget: he put in the résumé 'I am a very oriented person'. To an untrained eye such a statement may not sound like much, but it shows he has an oriented attitude. Towards what, it is not that important. What is important is the significant edge you get compared to people who write disoriented attitude. That's a big plus. He also put 'attetnion to details'. Twice. I'm sold. 100% sales material. Oh, if you still think the object of his attention is relevant, it all comes to light a few bullets below: "managing and planning resources for different projects around the globe". Mystery solved. And his voice sounded so nice on the phone. We have a winner!

I'll be proactive and have an offer ready for him, to finish quickly; I just remembered I need to take the cat to the vet afterwards; I cannot step back at this point, no matter how much he asks.

All in all, such a productive day today. If everything pans out -as I planned- I'll only need to set my status to 'Work from home' and leave earlier. An almost perfect day if it weren't for that idiot; this is the second day in a row when he brings full-fat. At least this time it's the one with pro-biotics. University is a waste for some people, I really don't know why we bother bringing interns here. Safe to say, this is not president material.

What happens in your body when you're running or not running.

Mid-life crisis is still not ticked off from my long list of annoying things I need to complete or at least start. Unfortunately, I still couldn't come up with a decent one. The closest I could think of is still a an expensive sports car but given my current financial prospects -based on some vague numbers I've run through my mind while writing this- mid-life crisis should wait until when I'm about 109 and probably able to afford a decent Porsche. Unfortunately, patience is one of the very few qualities I'm short of, so that's too a long time to wait. Unless you're a volcano waiting on a rift. Or a man at the mall who's stupidly agreed to go clothes shopping with a woman during the weekend. In these cases, it's a rather short time if you ask the volcano or the woman, but I'm neither. Also, 109 is not really mid-life but rather dangerously stepping in the fourth-quarter territory, based on other loose estimations pf my life-span, which amount to a significant percentage of my style of devising watertight-plans. If I were one of the people who find witty expressing percentages by slices in a pie chart, I'd say they're a rather a big slice. Usually those people are accountants. Or overly appreciative of Excel. I'm not an accountant.

With the Porsche out of the picture, the feminist in me decided she was quite happy with my breasts and lips size and she was quick to dismiss implants out of the picture, too. But while in the area of sensitive body parts, she decided some sports would be beneficial. This is something no sane man would conceive unless it involved a TV, snacks and some alcohol, but the feminist side dismissed those, too. Feminists tend to be quite dismissive quite often, with an average of twice per paragraph.

Moving on with a new paragraph, just in case more dismissal is required.
Given how significant feminism is in my life, I decided to get to it. Not directly into sports, but into evaluating the consequences. I may not a very patient person, but I'm not hasty either. It's not something trivial you can just stampede into and then evaluate the consequences later, like buying cheap milk because it's close to the expiration date (and colour). Or a relationship. This is an important endeavour, as some form of physical effort may be involved.

Now that I'm thinking about it, it's a pity I'm not very appreciative of Excel, as it could help me create a table with 2 columns containing all the pros and cons and even come up with a nice pie chart outlining my conclusions based on that table. But as I've confusingly said, I'm not a volcano at the mall. Confusion is very high up that long list of qualities I possess, right next to humility and never having told a lie. It's such a long list that I would have organized it somehow if I had known how, but I am not aware of any tools for maintaining large collections of items.

That being said, I managed to remember several random effects of picking up on sports and a healthy life-style. I should start by pointing out that I'm a committed vegetarian already. Well, part-time vegetarian, but still; I'm no stranger to healthy choices. I don't eat bacon tiramisu every day, I check the label on the beer cans to make sure they don't contain palm oil and I'm always making sure those blue-cheese barbecue Pringles are ethically harvested from free-range potatoes (they're fine, there are no potatoes in them).

Even if you're already prepared, adopting a sporty life-style brings some significant changes. For instance, you start wearing tight clothes that could have looked decently probably 20 kg ago (that's 3 stone if you're British or a rounding error if you're American). Decent is a stretched (ha!) term, since even if you were fit you'd still be covered in 3 quarters of all the shades of a rainbow, mostly from the areas with savage shiny fuchsia, bright venomous orange, seizure-inducing purple and Predator-blood-retina-bleeding-fluorescent-green. Performance sporting gear and monochromatism are not the best friends. Also, it helps if you're into the habit of checking the label, thusly being able to get only the best synthetic nylon stretch pants and lung-crushing tops. Natural ingredients may be good in the kitchen but they're an outrageous faux-pas at the gym. And while we're on the topic of ingredients, the same goes for hydration gels packets, ergonomic energy drink buckets, muscle stimulant steroids and 3-gallon (that's mid-size for the American audience) protein shake canisters. If you thought cooking meth -the easiest way to get skinny- was difficult, wait till you read these labels; you may hold a chemist diploma and still struggle figuring out the list. That's a sign you're on the right track, though. Don't let complicated terminology intimidate you: as long as you can carry them on your $200 waist-band (performance clothes don't bother with pockets unless they're in places you cannot reach to) these items will be your loyal companions on the path to a fit and healthy lifestyle (or until you get kidney failure or a stroke).

By the time you're done purchasing all the required gear you may come to realize you would have spent less on a Porsche fit with the racing package, custom performance paint and ceramic brakes (bike rack not included). Speaking of which, posh car manufacturers are more than happy to sell you performance bikes more expensive than any of their cars. They may cost an arm and a leg, but weigh less than a finger. And if you're truly committed and go all the way for the top-of-the-range-titanium-helium-carbon-negative-weight-composite model the price range is bordering Koenigsegg territory. For those not into mid-life-crisis performance cars, Koenigsegg is a word you can only copy/ paste in a sentence, as you can never type it yourself.

However, money is not all, you cannot put a price on health and happiness. You may not have known it, but when you're running your body is releasing endorphins (yes, just like when you're gorging on chocolate biscuits). These make you happy. Your body is also releasing gases. Quite a lot of them. As I said, you cannot put a price on health but if I were to make an educated guess (to avoid over-using loose estimations) it'd be about 8$ per each nutrient-packed flatulent outburst. Anyways, remember that no pain is no gain. Temporary intestinal paralysis and excruciating muscle cramps are the surest path to physical comfort and a happy mind.

There is a social component to working out, too. This also contributes to happiness and a positive state of mind. You will make new friends, many of them holding impressive and interesting academic degrees in advanced disciplines like personal coaching, underwater yoga, bone-crunching-Pilates or sophisticated-cross-fit. If you're unsure of these credentials, you may be happy to know they are certified by the most exotic and reputable establishments of superior online education, some even endorsed by celebrity athletes like Vin Diesel and that aerobics trainer from Fiji whose diet is only coconuts and Evian water. And even if these new friends are in their very early twenties, some have already published valuable self-help books based on their lifetime experience. These valuable self-help books are available for download for free from their free website. All you need is to subscribe to the newsletter. And provide your credit card details, but that's only to prove you're serious about improving your life.
Anyway, help and encouragement from your new friends will help you get better -not better, the best- in no-time. Soon you'll be posting on Facebook your improved lap times and comparing them with your friends', which is something everybody enjoys reading about every 20 minutes. You should also post pictures of your new look in your new performance outfit. It's called leading by example. You'll lead others into realizing how radical changes are required right now if they want to be physically and mentally prepared for midlife crisis.

You're probably convinced already, but for the sake of fairness, the other column of my pros/cons non-existent table only has sitting comfortably on the couch, enjoying a pizza and a cookie -or the whole box- during a weekend marathon of the sequel to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, called Barely Legal Ninja Turtles. Possibly followed by some thinking about mid-life crisis. Or some brief physical activity in the kitchen.

A mentor, a motivational speaker and a hairdresser walk into a bar

Hello. You know me. You all know me.
You don't know me?! Are you sure? Maybe you're confusing, but anyway: here's my story.

Some time ago I was struggling with my career. I was very good at everything, but I wasn't sure which one I should choose. I decided to look for professional advice on Facebook where everybody is successful. One day my friend posted about her colleague having left the beauty parlour she was working at. I am totally an expert on beauty and make-up and haircuts, I can tell immediately if that shade fits those bangs and everybody says my pink lipstick and jewels look classy. This looked promising and I decided it to give the hair salon a chance. I became a professional hair stylist.

I struggled a bit at first but I was given a chance since in the meantime the owner's nephew was now my boyfriend. And after a while I became good. I mean really good, I had always been good. Some customers complained on various occasions for made-up reasons, because obviously they didn't have any professional training and were probably jealous. Anyway, now I was good-good, you know? And now all the important customers wanted me to do their hair while my colleagues were taking care of the less important customers.

After some time I realized I was so good and decided to share my knowledge with those less fortunate that couldn't come directly to my parlour. Well, not mine but you understand. And now I am engaged to the owner's nephew now, I guess we should be taking over soon, since I made it so successful.
As I had already a lot of experience on Facebook I started to share professional advice there and I posted some pictures of me and my most interesting hairstyles in assorted outfits. At the beach, in the club, at the mall, in my boyfriend's car. Some even from work, but I was asked to take those down, probably conflict of interest or something like that. Needless to say, it was an instant hit and everybody wanted to become friends with me and see more pictures with me in them.
In a few weeks I had reached the maximum number of friends, but a friend of mine told me I could open a website portal where I wouldn't have this limit and also I could make money. I got someone to build it for me since I was very busy. It was sooo popular that I became even more busy and started running out of time to write professional advice and decided to take information from other websites and make it better with my knowledge. After some time I had so many important things to say that I even started a newsletter which helped my loyal readers to keep track of me and not miss anything. Also, my friend told me this was another good way to make money from advertising or something like that.

Based on my huge success I decided to take things even further. My fans were really into all the things I shared and I decided to do more for them. Why limit myself only to fashion? It can't be the only thing I'm good at, right? And we had a bond already, we resonated so well. Which is why I thought I could provide even better advice, better tailored (ha!) to particular needs for those who could afford it. It was a natural move and so I moved straight into that. I later found out this was called being a personal coach or mentor. This also makes quite good money.

Soon after that, personal mentoring ended up taking even more time from my schedule that was already so full. So I came up with a greater idea: why not share my one-to-one experiences as a personal coach or mentor with more than one person at once? This could help even more people. And also make more money, which is important at this point in my life. I am no longer engaged to that loser and I also had to quit from the parlour when we broke up. But I am not one to make any compromises, he was slowing down my growth and holding back my career. I am moving on. You may no longer find me at my old job, but I'm still very active with coaching and mentoring on Facebook and on my website. I think it's called being a motivational speaker. If you can afford it, you may come watch me at my sessions.