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  “Hey, I’m -,” “We don’t go by names around here?” “Huh?” “As in, he doesn’t need to know your name Meat.” Teddy glanced at the woman. More specifically, he glanced at her ample bosom on display first, flicked his eyes up to her own eyes to assure her that he wasn’t looking at the creamy skin of her boobs, then double checked to make sure they were still there. His eyes did a little dance, a bounce up and down, and each time he did so, her eyebrows crinkled and crunched in growing rage. “Do I have to make up my own or am I stuck with that one?” Teddy asked. “Which one?” “Meat?” “You earn a nickname,” the other man in the room advised. “Until then, you’re just a walking sack of meat.” “Fair enough,” said Teddy. “Can you just like, call me Teddy until then though.” “We like meat,” said the woman. “I bet you do, and I’m no kind of vegetarian myself, though I don’t go for the sausage,” he winked. “But meat sounds so impersonal. So distant. And I can tell by the w

  What’s the worst that could happen?   I was taught to think that any time something goes wrong.   And trust me, things go wrong.   A lot.   Maybe wrong isn’t the right word.   Things don’t go as planned.   Which is where the responsibility resides.   If things don’t go as planned, who is responsible?   Me.   Either I set expectations (wrote a script in my head) and they weren’t met (because no one else knew their lines).   Or I didn’t spend enough time thinking out the results of the action.   What could go wrong?   If you build a mindset that says, I am 100% responsible for every single thing around me, then it becomes simple.   If something goes right, great. Don’t celebrate. It worked out how you planned.   And if something goes wrong, even better.   You learned.   This is not an easy mindset to develop.   Don’t celebrate the W’s, which I am prone to do with fist pumps and self back pats.   Don’t give too much tim