Sometime this past summer I unplugged. That's not to say that I booked a one-way trip to someplace isolated and lonely -- like a Tibetan monastery or my kitchen. Rather, I put my job description on a diet.I was feeling a little overwhelmed. It was the perfect storm of "overextended." On the home front, "Chez Berg" had been transformed seemingly overnight into a two-bit motor lodge with a really bad room-service menu -- a halfway house for the migrating, college-bound. They came, they left, came back and left again. And somewhere in between, my soon-to-be-empty nest overfloweth; I am pretty sure Bed Bath & Beyond threw up its entire line of dorm-room essentials in my living room. And then there was that job thing. Between broker duties, agent responsibilities, social media "obligations," including a neglected blog that was screaming, "Loser!" in 12-point font, not to mention a little writing gig here, I began to lose steam. It'...
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