More often than not, the mail box offers rainbow of unhappy mail. Bills, advertisements (as if we don’t see enough), and even scams bombard me weekly without my consent through the little black box at the end of my driveway. I pine for the long lost days of singing Blue’s Clues’ Mail Time as a child, who knew only of birthday cards and grandma’s letters.
Read MoreOutside of networking groups, there are not half as many in person forums as what was available to us as kids. As I encourage myself to get back out there to reestablish faded friendships and create new ones, I found myself at a loss of how to go about it. I have felt more awkward than ever, often at a loss of what to say or forgetting my thoughts mid-sentence.
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