I have a tendency to evoke ridiculously outdated bits of media matter in this blog (Coming Soon: My In-Depth Critique Goldeneye vs Perfect Dark. Did the latter push gameplay to its limits, or complicate a near-perfect formula?), though I'm sure most of my single-digit readership either ignores these entries or accepted them long ago. One of my students is reading Who Moved My Cheese?, and asked me to explain some of the difficult grammar. I read this book shortly after high school ended and hadn't thought about it much since; but after flicking through her highlighted and dog-eared copy, I was hit with a rush of memories that made me stagger and shake my head from side to side.
When the cheese runs out, you have got to find new cheese.
That's been the core of my life's philosophy for some time. Too many days spent watching over indolent high-schoolers and staying home with attention-starved dogs lead me to search out bigger things; I'd forgotten where exactly that inclination came from.
Who Moved My Cheese is a quick, easy read for even the most dedicated of non-readers. Don't expect anything too mind-blowing, but definitely read the book to spark some reflection on your own situation; especially if you too are fumbling through the Post-College Abyss.
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Who is this? In the name of all that is good and true, reveal thyself, sir, so that all may know your identity!
Or, at least post using hiragana.
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