I like writing.
It's talking that sucks big sweaty, uh, yeah. It stinks.
You would think that in this day and time, I mean, it is 2147, that people wouldn't have to write anymore. They’d be able to talk and words would appear on their tablets, on paper—if you could find some, or instantly in some software program.
And you'd be right.
But what I've learned over the years I've been a p.i., is the important parts of life don't come out of your mouth or at the end of your lasergun.
Okay, I take it back. It does matter what comes out of your lasergun.
I digress.
What has kept me from certain death is my ability to listen. Active listening. It's made the difference between finding a very naughty violator and the D.C. Regulators. So, if you want success in life, take it from me.
Listen hard. Listen smart. Listen actively.
Who died and made me the expert on success?
Not me. I'm an expert on surviving. I’m private inspector, Cybil Lewis.
In these dangerous times, survival is succeeding.
But not everyone is great at active listening.
Take for example, my investigator-in-training, Jane. She'd just as soon stab you as ask you questions.
Smart. Fierce. Quiet, Jane would kick the ever-loving crap outta you, Jane is a recovering Marine. She's all about action, but not so much about listening to you drone on about your cat, your son who's in the moon wars, or the fact your sister stole your wauto, wind automobile, and moved to the Midwest Territories.
You could hire us to find your vehicle, but maybe even your son on the moon. Come in. Talk to us about what you want found.
We'll listen.
Over the next few months, myself or Jane, will be writing. Reflection is good for the soul.
To be honest, it keeps me from smashing someone's face in and lets me blow off steam.
As I said, I like writing.
It's talking that sucks big sweaty, uh, yeah. It stinks.
You would think that in this day and time, I mean, it is 2147, that people wouldn't have to write anymore. They’d be able to talk and words would appear on their tablets, on paper—if you could find some, or instantly in some software program.
And you'd be right.
But what I've learned over the years I've been a p.i., is the important parts of life don't come out of your mouth or at the end of your lasergun.
Okay, I take it back. It does matter what comes out of your lasergun.
I digress.
What has kept me from certain death is my ability to listen. Active listening. It's made the difference between finding a very naughty violator and the D.C. Regulators. So, if you want success in life, take it from me.
Listen hard. Listen smart. Listen actively.Who died and made me the expert on success?
Not me. I'm an expert on surviving. I’m private inspector, Cybil Lewis.
In these dangerous times, survival is succeeding.
But not everyone is great at active listening.
Take for example, my investigator-in-training, Jane. She'd just as soon stab you as ask you questions.
Smart. Fierce. Quiet, Jane would kick the ever-loving crap outta you, Jane is a recovering Marine. She's all about action, but not so much about listening to you drone on about your cat, your son who's in the moon wars, or the fact your sister stole your wauto, wind automobile, and moved to the Midwest Territories.
You could hire us to find your vehicle, but maybe even your son on the moon. Come in. Talk to us about what you want found.
We'll listen.
Over the next few months, myself or Jane, will be writing. Reflection is good for the soul.
To be honest, it keeps me from smashing someone's face in and lets me blow off steam.
As I said, I like writing.
