Podcasts about vague

Most hockey goals fail because they're too vague, too big, or have zero accountability built in. In this episode, I'm breaking down exactly how to set goals that actually stick. The kind that turn into real results on the ice. We'll cover why specificity is everything, why starting small is the secret most players miss, and how to build accountability so you don't just set goals and forget them. I also get into something called the fresh start effect and why right now might be the perfect time to lock in and finally make it happen. Takeaways: -The fresh start effect can boost motivation for goal setting. -Vague goals often lead to failure; specificity is key. -Process-based goals are more effective than general goals. -Focusing on one habit at a time creates momentum. -Starting small makes it easier to build habits. -Accountability increases the likelihood of achieving goals. -Tracking progress helps in assessing improvement. -Involving trusted individuals can enhance accountability. -It's important to set realistic goals for success. -Utilizing coaching resources can provide additional support.  

Do New Year's resolutions genuinely lead to lasting change, or are they merely an annual illusion of progress? In this episode of The Leadership Podcast, Niels Brabandt examines the question through the lens of scientific research and executive leadership practice. Rather than relying on popular myths or motivational slogans, this episode is grounded in peer reviewed studies from behavioural science and psychology. Niels Brabandt explains why the frequently quoted claim that only nine per cent of people keep their New Year's resolutions is not supported by scientific evidence. He presents what credible long term research actually shows, including why a significant minority of individuals do achieve sustainable behavioural change. The episode explores why many resolutions fail and why this failure is not a matter of weak willpower. Vague goals, outcome fixation without method, and excessive dependence on external factors are identified as the primary reasons why resolutions collapse within weeks. These insights are directly relevant to business leaders who face similar challenges in strategy execution and organisational change. Niels Brabandt also outlines what works. Drawing on both research findings and real world leadership experience, he explains why behaviour based goals outperform intention based goals, why measurability is essential for accountability, and how identity plays a decisive role in long term success. Particular attention is given to the difference between positive goals and avoidance goals, a distinction with significant implications for leadership, performance management, and personal development. This episode is designed for executives, senior leaders, entrepreneurs, and decision makers who want to understand how evidence based goal setting can improve both personal effectiveness and organisational outcomes. New Year's resolutions are reframed not as motivational rituals, but as strategic instruments of self leadership when applied correctly. The Leadership Podcast with Niels Brabandt delivers rigorous thinking on leadership, self leadership, organisational behaviour, and sustainable performance, combining academic insight with practical relevance for those in responsibility. Keywords:Niels Brabandt, New Year's resolutions, do New Year's resolutions work, leadership podcast, business leadership, executive leadership, self leadership, goal setting, behavioural change, evidence based leadership, organisational change, management psychology, decision making, leadership development, performance management, business strategy, sustainable change, leadership science, personal effectiveness Host: Niels Brabandt / NB@NB-Networks.com Contact to Niels Brabandt: https://www.linkedin.com/in/nielsbrabandt/ Niels Brabandt's Leadership Letter: https://expert.nb-networks.com/ Niels Brabandt's Website: https://www.nb-networks.biz/ 

Send us a textTim Bedore, celebrated as one of America's funniest comedians and a former radio DJ, brings a unique perspective to the world of stand-up comedy. Known for his "Vague but True" vignettes and appearances on the Bob and Tom radio show, Bedore emphasizes the irreplaceable connection he shares with his audience during live performances. He values the support and opportunities he has received within the comedy industry, often collaborating with fellow comedians like Rick Reynolds and exploring new creative outlets like podcasting. Despite the challenges he faces, such as securing a book deal, Bedore remains passionate about storytelling and comedy, as evidenced by his commitment to continually crafting new material and entertaining audiences across various platforms.(00:01:27) Live Comedy's Unique Connection with Audience(00:04:29) Dynamic Comedy Scene of the 80s(00:10:50) The Importance of Human Connection in Comedy(00:19:40) Audience Feedback Enhancing Standup Comedy Acts(00:22:51) Nostalgic Vibes: Recapturing 1980s Comedy EnergySupport the show www.StandupComedyPodcastNetwork.com Website....check it out, podcast, jokes, blogs, and More!"NEW" Video Podcast: Tag Team Talent Podcast on Spotify & YouTube Podcast Quality List: https://www.millionpodcasts.com/heritage-podcasts/ Please Write a Review: in-depth walk-through for leaving a review.Interested in Standup Comedy? Check out my books on Amazon..."20 Questions Answered about Being a Standup Comic""Be a Standup Comic...or just look like one"

durée : 00:02:30 - Pirogue, la nouvelle vague musicale venue de Toulouse - Porté par une énergie douce et solaire, Pirogue s'impose peu à peu comme l'un des groupes les plus prometteurs de la scène toulousaine. Vous aimez ce podcast ? Pour écouter tous les autres épisodes sans limite, rendez-vous sur Radio France.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 1 Her stalker wasn't who she thought he was; Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Honey smiled at the long line of children waiting to see Santa, flipping her phone from Google Translate back to see the information of the next little girl in line, who was looking up at her somberly with large liquid brown eyes. In her small face was a familiar mixture of fear and hope. Wonder; it was wonder in her eyes, Honey thought. Unlike the tired and jaded adults, dutifully shifting their weight from foot to foot, holding overstuffed shopping bags and all the coats of their kids as they distracted themselves on their phones, the children got more and more excited as they drew near the man in the furry red suit with white trim. Honey loved working with the children; because like them, she sometimes could still see the magic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Norman shift uncomfortably in the painted plywood throne made for him to sit with the children and discuss their good behavior and of the wishes that they hoped would come true. Even at age 62, Norman still saw the magic with his merry bright blue eyes, but it faded when his prostate pained him. When the photographer got the shot the parent wanted, Honey walked to where most of the long line could see her as Norman flashed her a look of worshipful gratitude. The adults' faces immediately fell, knowing what was coming. "I'm afraid Santa needs to take a quick break because apparently the reindeer have begun arguing again!" Norman put his gloved hands up to his real beard, pulled a comically dismayed face, jumped up from his throne, and ran off toward the restrooms. Honey shook her head mournfully and continued, "The reindeer were all practicing their Christmas carols when Comet and Cupid couldn't decide how many times Santa checks his list in Santa Claus is Coming to Town! Does anyone here remember how it goes?" she asked, scanning the line for people game enough to help. Honey scampered back and forth along the line trying to choose among the eager volunteers, her white-trimmed, pink fur skirt flaring out around her thighs, her long legs clad in sparkly curly-toed ruby slippers and candy cane swirl stockings catching the eyes of several fathers. Suddenly, she gasped listening carefully to her headset, "Nina?" she called out. "Comet and Cupid say they will only stop arguing if 'Nina' gives the answer. Is there a 'Nina' here today? Nina?" Honey looked around at the crowd carefully until the little girl with the big brown eyes, who had been quietly waiting 57 minutes in line, gathered the courage to raise her hand. "Oh! Are you Nina?" she asked, running over and crouching down near the girl. "We just adopted her; she only speaks Portuguese," the weary woman holding her hand said quietly. Honey gasped and smiled widely, "Voc fala portugu s Nina? Maravilhosa!" she said, watching the little girl's eyes brighten excitedly. "Voc pode me dizer quantas vezes o Papai Noel verifica sua lista?" she asked, holding her microphone out to the little girl. "Duas vezes!" Nina said confidently into the mic. Honey listened carefully to her headset, concentrating, "'Duas vezes' it is! They've stopped arguing!" she announced. "But now, they want us all to sing the song in Portuguese! Nina, voc vai me ajudar a ensin -los a m sica?" she asked. Nina nodded and slowly she and Honey taught the familiar song to the crowd in a new language. As always, a hush came on the crowd when Honey began to sing. Heads raised up from forgotten phones. Vague smiles drifted onto the turning heads of passers-by in the mall as they paused in their frenetic search for gifts. It wasn't so much that Honey's voice was beautiful, though it certainly was. It was more that when Honey sang, it seemed to make the things that didn't really matter melt away. To those that believed in such things, Honey's voice was magic. When she sang, people held their breath and didn't even miss the air. Honey closed her eyes as she sang next to Nina. It was a newly acquired habit. Though she had been taught to let her eyes slowly drift over the audience, letting them make a connection with each person as she sang, she didn't do that anymore. She knew he was out there. She felt his presence frequently as she worked, but it was only when she sang that he came out into the open. She couldn't hold her voice steady when she saw him watching her, so she closed her eyes and let the magic continue for the crowd. When the song ended, Honey opened her eyes as the crowd cheered, finding his powerful form immediately as if she had been commanded to look at him. Zach. He had changed a lot in the year since he brought his sister's children through the long Santa line, drawing her almost too-large dark blue eyes to him then, as easily as he did now. After bringing his nieces and nephews through the line, he'd gone home and brought all his neighbors' kids to see Santa in five more trips, watching her the entire time. He looked at her as if he'd never seen anything like her in the world, like he couldn't believe she was real. She had loved feeling his eyes on her then, hearing his voice. She had wanted to climb up in his lap, feel his large arms curled around her, whisper to him about how good she had been that year, and of how much she hoped he would make her wishes come true. Of course, all that was before he'd told her he wanted to kill her. Zach's face looked leaner now, though his body seemed even larger, if such a thing was possible. His brooding, deep-set eyes were not merry, as they had been when children climbed his tree-like body in her line last year. They weren't nervously soft and adoring of every part of her, as they had been at their candle-lit dinner. His eyes weren't rageful or insane as you might expect from someone visiting their object of murderous hate, but rather; they were tortured, trapped. Pain and quiet desperation had taken up restless residence in the windows to his soul. Honey knew she shouldn't look at him so much, but she just wished she could understand what she had done wrong. Once the line of children and parents had cleared, it was long past the official closing time. Honey cleaned up the display and prepared it for the next day while Norman took one last lingering trip to the restroom. Her phone showed numerous messages from work friends from her other job asking where she was. The firm had planned a Christmas party at Gatsby's, a gorgeous club worthy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's glamorous hero. It was also the place where Zach had taken her on their first and last date. The Gatsby's waiter had looked stunned and confused when she shakily ordered herself an "angel shot," the code-phrase used to quietly ask bartenders or wait staff for help when you felt threatened, but after his initial shock, the waiter immediately escorted her secretly to a taxi waiting outside before Zach returned to the table. Gatsby's had saved her life; but she didn't want to go back there. After avoiding call after call from Zach, she finally answered and politely asked him never to call her again. To her surprise, he didn't. He never spoke to her again. Unless she sang, she never even saw him, but she felt his presence almost everywhere. It felt like she was haunted by him; haunted by something wonderful and magical that, inexplicably, went horribly wrong. Her phone buzzed again, the display showing that the firm's senior partner wanted to FaceTime her. Steeling herself, she answered. "Honey Lane where in the hell; oh my god lookit you!" Aaron Timberman held the phone high above his head with his long ex-basketball-player arms and Honey saw a crowd of her co-workers crowd into the picture behind him. "Um, hi sir. Sorry I'm late to;" "You're an elf!" "Um, yeah. It's a volunteer thing;" "Wait, wait, wait; you have the shoes? You know, with the; toes?" he slurred, motioning his finger in a spiral motion. Honey bit her lips and tilted the camera down her body, showing her entire costume, tilting her foot to show off the curled toe. "I'm sorry it got late tonight, but I'll be there as soon as I can get home and get changed;" Timberman looked around at the crowd surrounding him, "Guys, do we wanna see Honey Lane here at the party in some boring old Anne Klein shit, or do we want the elf?" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Behind him, almost a dozen of her co-workers began chanting "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf!" "Get yer ass over here, Elf," Timberman ordered, poking at his screen several times before effectively ending the call. A few minutes later, Norman finally came back from the restroom and gave Honey a ride over to Gatsby's in his red SUV bedecked with a bumper sticker that read, "My other car's a SLEIGH!" Honey hopped out after getting bits of advice from Norman that would have been appropriate several decades ago. With flaming cheeks, she brushed the furry white pompom from her hat out of her face and told the smirking ma tre d which party she wanted, sighing when he grinned widely and escorted her through the middle of the main dining area, much to her horror. When the doors to the party room opened and she was greeted by another round of "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf," she didn't feel much better. She was starving, so she headed over to the buffet and began loading up a plate with delicious-looking things on ice in shot glasses, impaled on sticks, or immersed in flames. She just spied a quiet table in a dark corner and was winding her way toward it to it to scarf down her only food since breakfast before she could be drawn into a drunken debate. That was the plan, anyway. "Hunnybaby! Lookit you! C'mon we gotta dance!" Lee James slurred to her fur-trimmed tits. With a sigh, she smiled and laid her plate down on a nearby table, promising to herself that she would eat right after enduring a dance with the favored junior partner. Unfortunately, after Lee angled her awkwardly around the dance floor, they'd drawn so much attention that everyone wanted to get pics of themselves toasting and dancing with the Christmas elf. At some point, she found herself in Timberman's arms with a glass of champagne in her hand. "Um; what?" she said, almost asking herself how she had gotten there. "I said you look lovely, tonight, Honey. Much better than in a shawl and sheath dress," he said, quickly twirling her around as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "Twirling makes my skirt go up; I'm dizzy," she murmured. A familiar dark figure flashed in the background and disappeared as Timberman turned her again. She looked around, trying to find the figure again, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Why was he there? Had she been singing again? "Well, I'll make sure nobody twirls you, my dear," he said, twirling her and smiling as her skirt flew up her long candy-cane striped legs. "The wives wouldn't like it." "I like your wife's dress Mr. Timberman; looks warm. It covers her ass when she sits, too," she slurred, frowning in confusion at the dark red drink in her hand now. Zach was frowning, and then he just looked blurry again as she swirled around. Maybe swirling made it harder for him to kill her. Why did he want to kill her? It just wasn't fair. Timberman leaned down and dipped her, "I'll make sure to give her your compliments. You know, if you like what wives wear, you should consider getting married. Lee is quite taken with you, you know," he said, stroking his hand against the soft pink velvet of her dress. Honey found herself drifting away and wandering inside her head again, thinking about Lee; he was handsome in an overly-polished way, said funny things, but they always sounded a little mean, like he wanted to be the only one laughing; and he also took her away from the food plate that just floated by on a table. It was still full. She should have eaten that food. What time was it? "He likes my boobs; and he doesn't want to kill me," she agreed eventually, surprised to find that Timberman was gone and she was dancing with Lee James again. "Well, I can't blame him for that; they're fucking perfect; just like everything else. I'm gonna come on them after you suck me off; he murmured, pulling her closer against him. "Let me take you home, Honey; penthouse view of the city; "Umm; no, that's not home; I live in the; railroad place; with the trains?" Honey explained, pointing in what she thought was the direction of the Lowertown Commons. Why did every guy think she lived with them tonight? "Sounds charming, Eliza Doolittle; you should trade up. You don't know how much I'd love twist your arms back and fuck this ass wide open over my balcony tonight," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and greedily squeezing her bottom. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Honey? I can tell; Lee whispered, his cologne invading her head and making her queasy. "I feel sick; Honey whimpered and staggered away, trying to find the quiet table where the food was that would make her less drunk. The dance floor was confusing, though, always turning around and thumping and flashing. She leaned against a pillar until she got a better sense of where she was. She liked the pillar. It was big and strong; and it stroked her hair. "Honey; wake up, Honey. Open your mouth. You need to take these," the vaguely familiar voice said, cutting through the sleep that had been blocking out some of the pain she felt everywhere. She obediently opened her mouth and the hand put two caplets on her tongue. A water bottle squirted a little cool liquid into her mouth until she moaned and sucked harder, desperate for more. "Not too much. Wait until you can hold that down. I'll give you more in a bit. You don't want that IV back, do you?" "Nuh" Honey groaned. She hated needles. Sure, just about every part of her body hurt more than a needle did, right now, but somehow needle pain felt personal. Like with Zach. He didn't seem like someone who went around wanting to choke everybody; just her. She was nobody special; just a simple girl who kept lawyers organized and tried to be nice. Then, someone wonderful like Zach thought she needed to die. That hurt. Something about her made him go from being tender and intensely loving to someone who; it just didn't make sense. What did she do? Mercifully, sleep faded the pain and clouded her thoughts. Voices below her intruded into a wonderful dream where she was bouncing on clouds. Though not in the same room, the voices seemed strangely clear. "I can't; Terry, she cries when I do that," the pills voice said, making her eyes fly open. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it for a year, but she would never forget it. Her body reacted with a confused mix of emotions, her cheeks flushing and adrenaline searing a path all through her at the same time. "That's because it hurts her. You know what hurts more? Bedsores. Man up. Use the pillows to prop her weight against the parts that aren't hurt on whichever side. It's either this, or she goes back to the hospital, and I have it on good authority you won't be allowed to visit after what happened." "She was screaming; Zach gritted. "Yeah, well they were putting her shoulder back in. People scream. That still doesn't excuse what you did. Since when did you become such a pussy about pain?" Terry asked. "since her." "oh my god." "Shut up," Zach grunted. "Oh my god; "Yeah, that's not shutting up." "The great Z-dog has been taken down;" "Shut up, maggot, it's not like that. I'm just taking care of h;" "By a little bitty pink Christmas elf; Terry laughed. There was a scuffling sound and then a loud whoomp and a forceful exhalation of air. "So, I turn her every few hours until she can do it for herself?" Zach asked, casually. "Yes, sir," Terry choked. "Anything else?" "Clear liquids until she can hold stuff down. Talk to her. Ask her questions. If she seems disoriented or part of her face goes slack, she goes back to the hospital. Don't fuck around." "Got it. Are you squared away, or do we need to discuss this further?" "Squared away, sir," Terry choked, then gasped in relief, panting faintly. "Jesus Christ, you haven't lost your touch. We on for the hump tomorrow at 0 500?" "No. I'm gonna stick close here until she's;" "Got it. Hey, maybe they have those Baby Bjorn things in elf-size. Then, you could just strap her onto your ba; ow! ow! ow, ow, ow!" "You weren't particularly attached to the rest of that sentence, were you, maggot?" Zach growled. "Sir, no sir; Terry squeaked. "I didn't think so. You'll be back here Wednesday," Zach stated, more as an order than a question. "Yeah, if you want me to. Honestly, right now she just needs rest and TLC more than a medic. That stands for 'tender loving care' by the way, not;" "You were just going," Zach said, as the voices moved to another end of the room below her. "Hey, you wanna know what makes an elf's toes curl up like tha;" Terry asked, his question cut off by the slamming of the door. Honey listened, trembling and terrified as Zach paced the floor below her. Though his voice hadn't changed, he sounded nothing like the man that had wooed her so tenderly a year ago. He sounded dangerous, brutal even. He definitely sounded like the kind of person that went around wanting to choke everyone, she thought, strangely relieved that her heartbreak felt a little less personal. How could she have been so wrong in her impression of him? She looked around the room, understanding now how the voices had reached her so easily. She was in an open industrial loft bedroom that opened onto the main floor below. Looking around, she realized she must be in Zach's huge bed, though if the crisply made side next to her was any indication, he hadn't been sleeping in it with her. Looking down her body, she gasped quietly. Her left arm was in a sling strapped to her chest, her legs were covered in bruises, and the right leg that was being stabbed with an invisible knife right now, was wrapped up in an air cast boot. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was feeling sick as she tried to get away from Lee's groping hands on the dance floor. After that; nothing. How did she get here? A beeping noise sounded below and Zach walked across the room to what sounded like a kitchen. The sound of water being poured into a cup, the ringing of a spoon stirring it, a pill bottle being opened. Honey shivered, realizing he was probably coming up to her, soon. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, feigning sleep. Steps ascending to the loft bedroom. Ankle stabbing, stab, stab, stab, stab with every panicked heartbeat. A tray went down on the nightstand next to her. A chair across the room was lifted and set down by the bed. Honey told herself to breathe slowly, willing the tears welling behind her lids not to leak out of her eyes. He would leave her alone if she was sleeping, wouldn't he? "You're not sleeping," Zach's voice stated, quietly, and her stomach clenched in fear. "You've been waking up for these pills every four hours like a junkie. I know you don't want to talk to me, Honey, but until you're squared away, you're gonna have to. So, cut the crap, open your eyes, and let's get this done." Honey opened her eyes to see his grim face looking down at her. With one blink, large tears rolled down her pale cheeks, and Zach's jaw set angrily. Sitting down in the chair, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned his massive shoulders forward, looking at her. His hands looked like they could crush rocks as he gripped them together. "Let's get some things straight. I don't know what you think you know about me, but acting like I'm some kind of psycho is pretty shitty. You want nothing of me, that's fine, but you're hurt because you screamed and flung yourself down some stairs rather than let me help you to an Uber. You're staying here until you're well, because some shithead at that party gave you enough roofies to be in a coma for almost 3 days and I'm not dragging my ass to that rat trap of yours in the Commons every day to make sure they don't come back while you're weak. Are we clear?" he asked. Honey swallowed and nodded, wincing at the pain in her neck and head. That just seemed to make Zach angrier. "While you are here, you will do as you're told. You will eat what you get, and you will not complain. You see these, here?" he said, holding up the magic caplets that made everything better. "These are the last ones you're getting. I'm switching you to ibuprofen and Tylenol because, unchecked, this Sackler shit will fuck you up for good and that's not happening on my watch. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes," Honey whispered. At the sound of her voice, Zach's mouth twitched, but at least he didn't look as angry as when she'd nodded and winced. "You will follow your doctor's orders to the last goddamn word. You will rest. You will do your therapy. You will let me help you and you will ask me for what you need because I am not a fucking mind reader. And so help me, if you do anything stupid like get out of that bed without me here to help you, or push yourself away from me like you did at Gatsby's, or any other drama shit that hurts even one hair on that head again, I will personally make you regret you were ever born." "Yes, Zach," Honey breathed, confused. Two more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned over to wipe them off on her shoulder and cried out in pain. Zach squeezed his clenched hands together and several of his knuckles cracked. "You don't use my name. You don't get to use my name. You're not getting under my skin again, you hear me?" Zach growled, using his rough knuckle to wipe her tears. "Orders a fucking angel shot in my own fucking club; fuck you. I don't have a name, you don't have a name. You're nothing to me. Understand?" "Yes, sir," she whispered. Honey leaned forward and took the last spoonful of broth into her mouth and swallowed, looking longingly at the noodles at the bottom of the cup. Zach caught a drop of broth at the bottom of her lower lip with the spoon and returned it to her mouth. "No," he said, seeing where her eyes lingered. "I can do it," she pleaded. "Please; I haven't had anything solid since; how long has it been?" "I said, no. You throw up on another pair of my skivvies and I'll be doing laundry twice a week," Zach said, dabbing her mouth with a paper towel. "Why do I have to wear your boxer briefs anyway? They feel weird. They have this hole-flap thing; and there are some places that aren't supposed to feel a breeze," Honey said, lifting the blanket to look down at his underwear loosely covering her hips. "Are you complaining?" he asked quietly. Honey's eyes darted quickly to his face, "No sir," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "I just thought if I had some of my things here, you wouldn't have to do the laundry so much." "I'll worry about what I have to do, Honey," he said, unthinkingly using her name. Startled, she looked up to see his eyes wandering over her, his massive t-shirt sleeves going down past her elbows. She felt ridiculous and disheveled, but something about the way he looked at her made her hold her breath. Then, without another word, he slurped the noodles out of the cup and took the tray downstairs. After that, the two settled into a quiet routine of him feeding her, giving her medicine, and watching her sleep most of the day. She would sometimes awaken to the soft repetitive sounds of him running on a treadmill, or the clinking of him lifting weights downstairs where she couldn't see him. Then, he would go to the bathroom and shower. After his shower, he came upstairs again in his towel and took some clothes from his dresser before going back downstairs to change. Honey found herself looking forward to those few seconds each day, watching his droplet-covered torso twist as he leaned over his dresser. He frowned as he flipped through his carefully folded underwear. "You wearing the grey ones?" he asked, not looking at her. Honey peeked under the covers, "Um, yes sir," she replied. "I'm supposed to wear the grey ones today," he grumbled to himself. Honey didn't say anything. Zach was the one who picked out which underwear she wore today. He was the one who looked away while he painstakingly slipped the old ones off her hips and pulled the new ones over her boot and up her legs until her bottom was covered again. There was nothing about her life that wasn't chosen and executed by him. If he wasn't happy about the color of his underwear, that was his fault. Still, Zach kept rummaging around in his underwear drawer as if another crisply folded grey pair would somehow magically appear. Finally, rather than offend him by laughing, Honey spoke, "Um; you know, if they're clean, I could wear the pair I had on when I went to the hospital and you could have these. It would get you back on schedule; Zach lifted his head from the drawer and glared at her, as if he thought she was making fun of him. Honey held carefully still and shrugged her uninjured limb. She wasn't making fun, she just wanted to help. The movement caused the huge neckline to gape over to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. She waited as Zach stared impassively at her, the vein at his neck throbbing. After a long moment, he walked over and stood next to her, the tuck of his towel right next to her face. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of his wet body and the bar soap he used. A rivulet of water painstakingly slid from his chest and down his abdomen, until finally disappearing into the tightly twisted white cotton. Honey glanced up to see that he had been reading her face as she watched the droplet's progress. With a shaking breath, she blushed and pulled the covers higher with her good arm. With a twist of his mouth, Zach pulled the neckline back over her shoulder again and quickly left the room. That night, after leaving her with a video baby monitor watching her on the nightstand, Zach returned with a bag of her underwear and some of her nightgowns. After watching her excitedly sort through them, Zach pushed them aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "There were a bunch of boxes with tags on them in your living room. What's that about?" he asked. Honey's eyes dropped, "Oh; that's the charity gift thing for kids. You sign up and get them something they wished for and wrap it up so they can have something under the tree, when they wouldn't have something otherwise. It's nice, you know? I signed up for a bunch and I was supposed to wrap them and get them back to the law firm, but I guess; sorry kids," she trailed off. Looking furious, yet carefully impassive at the same time, Zach cursed under his breath and left again, returning with the packages and a huge stack of unused Styrofoam clamshells from Gatsby's, and dumped them on the bed next to her. For the next few hours, they "wrapped" the presents, Zach carefully fitting items into an appropriate-sized takeout box, and Honey trying to make them pretty with ribbons. As she watched him work, occasionally cursing under his breath, she found herself smiling at his frowning face when he was strategizing how to fit a basketball into three disassembled clamshells. "What are you laughing at?" he said, glaring when he caught her at it. "I wasn't laughing. I was smiling." "Why were you smiling, then?" he asked. "I guess; I just like you; sir," she said, glancing over at him. Honey saw a hopeful softness steal into Zach's eyes until he forcibly wrestled it down and a look of hooded sarcasm shaded them. "Yeah, well; fool me once," he sneered. Angry, Honey closed her eyes, blocking him out the only way she could. "You know, that's; that's not fair. Not after what you said; you scared me!" she said, frustrated that, once again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Zach choked out a mirthless laugh, "I scared you? What did I say, Honey? What did I fucking say? God! I was on eggshells all night trying not to fuck it up with you and then you just; why? Those creeps you were dancing with at that party, those fucking 'nice guys' that drugged you, they were saying shit that made my skin crawl! I didn't even kiss you! I couldn't! I could barely breathe just for looking at you on our date; you looked just like a fucking angel. What did I say, Honey? What did I say?" Honey reached over and grabbed her phone, flipping through her photo album to a screenshot taken shortly before she blocked his number. "You didn't say it; you texted it. I remember watching you leave for the restroom thinking I'd met the love of my life and then you sent me this; she said, handing her phone to him. Zach took the phone, his face going from an angry red to pale horror in a matter of seconds. "This; this; he gasped, "I didn't; send this; to you; he said, shaking his head. "Whoever had your phone did, sir!" she said, emphasizing the last word, making him wince. "I spent the last year thinking you wanted to do that to me; to kill me. Every time I felt you watching me, every crowd I saw you show up in, every dark room I had to go into, that's what I thought about. I thought that a man I was head over heels about; that I could be so wrong about him. So, excuse me for thinking I liked you, sir. I promise it won't ever happen again!" Honey cried herself to sleep that night, refusing to speak to, or even look at Zach again. When she awoke, the bedroom was empty, and a glass of water and a pain pill were waiting on the nightstand. After swallowing the pill, she stared at the ceiling, furious. She didn't want to be there anymore, to be helpless and dependent on him, to obey all his stupid rules. He didn't deserve to take care of her. So, she tightened the straps on her boot and increased the air pressure to hold her broken ankle tightly enough to walk without her crutches. Then, she took off Zach's t-shirt, pulled on her elf dress, and called herself an Uber. It was when she saw the anticipated arrival time of 8 minutes that she realized her mistake. There was no way for her to get down from the loft and out of the apartment quietly in that amount of time. If she used the crutches, she would be able to descend the stairs quickly enough, but they made such a distinctive clicking racket that they would surely wake up her gorilla-like guard. If she hopped down the stairs on her good foot, it might have worked, but her good arm was on the opposite side and she kept losing her balance. Eventually she decided on the most painful course, of going down on her good and bad legs, using her good arm for support. Her boot thunked horribly the first few times, until she got the hang of it and could place it more quietly on the next step and then hop her good foot down to support it before the scream inside her could escape her lips. By the time she reached the bottom, though, she was shaking with pain and exhausted. Curiosity forced her to look around the rest of the apartment as she caught her breath, sitting on the bottom step. It was clean and unmistakably masculine. Exercise equipment took up a lot of the space not already claimed by a leather couch and TV arrangement. Zach lay on the couch, made up with sheets to act as a bed, his feet sticking out over the arm, his hand tucked under the back of his head, his chest rising and falling under the rumpled sheet. If she wasn't so angry, she'd find him handsome; or maybe he still was handsome, she thought grudgingly, closing her eyes miserably and looking away. Why couldn't he be ugly? Life wasn't fair. Uber. Right. Screwing up her courage for what was ahead, she stood and slowly hobbled across the hardwood floor, agonizing over every painful thump and noisy squeak until she finally reached the door. She unlocked the five locks on his large door, each of them being well-oiled and working perfectly. She expected no less of her anal-retentive, grey-skivvies-on-Tuesdays captor. Finally, she tugged open the heavy door to find endless flights of icy steel-mesh stairs leading all the way down to the street where her Uber was waiting. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me; she cried, breaking down into tears. A strong arm slid down around her waist and mercifully shifted her weight off her throbbing foot, "I know. It sucks. You should try it with a rucksack full of bricks," Zach said, leaning his head down and breathing into her hair. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Let me take care of you; please," Zach murmured into the top of her head, "I; it was my fault this happened to you. I scared you, I know that now; but, please believe me that I would never want to hurt or frighten you like that." "It wasn't just that text," she said, pulling her head away and looking up at him angrily. "All year, I never had a moment's peace. Even when I couldn't see you, I could feel you waiting in the quiet or dark places. Even if you weren't there;" "I was there," he confessed. "I was always there. I didn't understand what had gone wrong. You didn't want to talk to me, and the world just didn't make sense to me unless I knew where you were, what you were doing; unless I knew you were safe." "Maybe you knew I was safe, but I didn't! I thought I'd done something; that somehow I deserved to have this beautiful, scary monster hunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done to destroy something that was so; wonderful." "You didn't do anything, Honey. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You were so perfect that I couldn't keep; you didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to send you that message; please, please believe me." "Why did you send it?" she asked, finally looking up into his eyes. The dark blue liquid pools of her eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and Zach felt a tightening in his chest. "I; I can't tell you that; but it was never meant for you." "You mean, you meant to send that message to someone else? To hurt them like that?" "Honey, I; Zach said, looking around, unable to meet her eyes, "Please, I can't; you wouldn't understand; my life isn't like that anymore." "I want to go home, Zach; please," she whispered. Zach closed his eyes for a long moment before he swallowed and nodded, looking like he was in more pain than she was. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? Or Terry will, if you don't want me to. He'll check the place out, make sure you're set up and safe there. You're tired, you're hurting, and your Uber's gone, now. Let me take you back upstairs and you can go in the morning. Please." At that moment, a throb of pain shot through her entire leg, and as angry as Honey was, she knew she couldn't face her empty apartment without a few more hours of rest. "Okay," she whispered. To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 1 Her stalker wasn't who she thought he was; Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Honey smiled at the long line of children waiting to see Santa, flipping her phone from Google Translate back to see the information of the next little girl in line, who was looking up at her somberly with large liquid brown eyes. In her small face was a familiar mixture of fear and hope. Wonder; it was wonder in her eyes, Honey thought. Unlike the tired and jaded adults, dutifully shifting their weight from foot to foot, holding overstuffed shopping bags and all the coats of their kids as they distracted themselves on their phones, the children got more and more excited as they drew near the man in the furry red suit with white trim. Honey loved working with the children; because like them, she sometimes could still see the magic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Norman shift uncomfortably in the painted plywood throne made for him to sit with the children and discuss their good behavior and of the wishes that they hoped would come true. Even at age 62, Norman still saw the magic with his merry bright blue eyes, but it faded when his prostate pained him. When the photographer got the shot the parent wanted, Honey walked to where most of the long line could see her as Norman flashed her a look of worshipful gratitude. The adults' faces immediately fell, knowing what was coming. "I'm afraid Santa needs to take a quick break because apparently the reindeer have begun arguing again!" Norman put his gloved hands up to his real beard, pulled a comically dismayed face, jumped up from his throne, and ran off toward the restrooms. Honey shook her head mournfully and continued, "The reindeer were all practicing their Christmas carols when Comet and Cupid couldn't decide how many times Santa checks his list in Santa Claus is Coming to Town! Does anyone here remember how it goes?" she asked, scanning the line for people game enough to help. Honey scampered back and forth along the line trying to choose among the eager volunteers, her white-trimmed, pink fur skirt flaring out around her thighs, her long legs clad in sparkly curly-toed ruby slippers and candy cane swirl stockings catching the eyes of several fathers. Suddenly, she gasped listening carefully to her headset, "Nina?" she called out. "Comet and Cupid say they will only stop arguing if 'Nina' gives the answer. Is there a 'Nina' here today? Nina?" Honey looked around at the crowd carefully until the little girl with the big brown eyes, who had been quietly waiting 57 minutes in line, gathered the courage to raise her hand. "Oh! Are you Nina?" she asked, running over and crouching down near the girl. "We just adopted her; she only speaks Portuguese," the weary woman holding her hand said quietly. Honey gasped and smiled widely, "Voc fala portugu s Nina? Maravilhosa!" she said, watching the little girl's eyes brighten excitedly. "Voc pode me dizer quantas vezes o Papai Noel verifica sua lista?" she asked, holding her microphone out to the little girl. "Duas vezes!" Nina said confidently into the mic. Honey listened carefully to her headset, concentrating, "'Duas vezes' it is! They've stopped arguing!" she announced. "But now, they want us all to sing the song in Portuguese! Nina, voc vai me ajudar a ensin -los a m sica?" she asked. Nina nodded and slowly she and Honey taught the familiar song to the crowd in a new language. As always, a hush came on the crowd when Honey began to sing. Heads raised up from forgotten phones. Vague smiles drifted onto the turning heads of passers-by in the mall as they paused in their frenetic search for gifts. It wasn't so much that Honey's voice was beautiful, though it certainly was. It was more that when Honey sang, it seemed to make the things that didn't really matter melt away. To those that believed in such things, Honey's voice was magic. When she sang, people held their breath and didn't even miss the air. Honey closed her eyes as she sang next to Nina. It was a newly acquired habit. Though she had been taught to let her eyes slowly drift over the audience, letting them make a connection with each person as she sang, she didn't do that anymore. She knew he was out there. She felt his presence frequently as she worked, but it was only when she sang that he came out into the open. She couldn't hold her voice steady when she saw him watching her, so she closed her eyes and let the magic continue for the crowd. When the song ended, Honey opened her eyes as the crowd cheered, finding his powerful form immediately as if she had been commanded to look at him. Zach. He had changed a lot in the year since he brought his sister's children through the long Santa line, drawing her almost too-large dark blue eyes to him then, as easily as he did now. After bringing his nieces and nephews through the line, he'd gone home and brought all his neighbors' kids to see Santa in five more trips, watching her the entire time. He looked at her as if he'd never seen anything like her in the world, like he couldn't believe she was real. She had loved feeling his eyes on her then, hearing his voice. She had wanted to climb up in his lap, feel his large arms curled around her, whisper to him about how good she had been that year, and of how much she hoped he would make her wishes come true. Of course, all that was before he'd told her he wanted to kill her. Zach's face looked leaner now, though his body seemed even larger, if such a thing was possible. His brooding, deep-set eyes were not merry, as they had been when children climbed his tree-like body in her line last year. They weren't nervously soft and adoring of every part of her, as they had been at their candle-lit dinner. His eyes weren't rageful or insane as you might expect from someone visiting their object of murderous hate, but rather; they were tortured, trapped. Pain and quiet desperation had taken up restless residence in the windows to his soul. Honey knew she shouldn't look at him so much, but she just wished she could understand what she had done wrong. Once the line of children and parents had cleared, it was long past the official closing time. Honey cleaned up the display and prepared it for the next day while Norman took one last lingering trip to the restroom. Her phone showed numerous messages from work friends from her other job asking where she was. The firm had planned a Christmas party at Gatsby's, a gorgeous club worthy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's glamorous hero. It was also the place where Zach had taken her on their first and last date. The Gatsby's waiter had looked stunned and confused when she shakily ordered herself an "angel shot," the code-phrase used to quietly ask bartenders or wait staff for help when you felt threatened, but after his initial shock, the waiter immediately escorted her secretly to a taxi waiting outside before Zach returned to the table. Gatsby's had saved her life; but she didn't want to go back there. After avoiding call after call from Zach, she finally answered and politely asked him never to call her again. To her surprise, he didn't. He never spoke to her again. Unless she sang, she never even saw him, but she felt his presence almost everywhere. It felt like she was haunted by him; haunted by something wonderful and magical that, inexplicably, went horribly wrong. Her phone buzzed again, the display showing that the firm's senior partner wanted to FaceTime her. Steeling herself, she answered. "Honey Lane where in the hell; oh my god lookit you!" Aaron Timberman held the phone high above his head with his long ex-basketball-player arms and Honey saw a crowd of her co-workers crowd into the picture behind him. "Um, hi sir. Sorry I'm late to;" "You're an elf!" "Um, yeah. It's a volunteer thing;" "Wait, wait, wait; you have the shoes? You know, with the; toes?" he slurred, motioning his finger in a spiral motion. Honey bit her lips and tilted the camera down her body, showing her entire costume, tilting her foot to show off the curled toe. "I'm sorry it got late tonight, but I'll be there as soon as I can get home and get changed;" Timberman looked around at the crowd surrounding him, "Guys, do we wanna see Honey Lane here at the party in some boring old Anne Klein shit, or do we want the elf?" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Behind him, almost a dozen of her co-workers began chanting "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf!" "Get yer ass over here, Elf," Timberman ordered, poking at his screen several times before effectively ending the call. A few minutes later, Norman finally came back from the restroom and gave Honey a ride over to Gatsby's in his red SUV bedecked with a bumper sticker that read, "My other car's a SLEIGH!" Honey hopped out after getting bits of advice from Norman that would have been appropriate several decades ago. With flaming cheeks, she brushed the furry white pompom from her hat out of her face and told the smirking ma tre d which party she wanted, sighing when he grinned widely and escorted her through the middle of the main dining area, much to her horror. When the doors to the party room opened and she was greeted by another round of "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf," she didn't feel much better. She was starving, so she headed over to the buffet and began loading up a plate with delicious-looking things on ice in shot glasses, impaled on sticks, or immersed in flames. She just spied a quiet table in a dark corner and was winding her way toward it to it to scarf down her only food since breakfast before she could be drawn into a drunken debate. That was the plan, anyway. "Hunnybaby! Lookit you! C'mon we gotta dance!" Lee James slurred to her fur-trimmed tits. With a sigh, she smiled and laid her plate down on a nearby table, promising to herself that she would eat right after enduring a dance with the favored junior partner. Unfortunately, after Lee angled her awkwardly around the dance floor, they'd drawn so much attention that everyone wanted to get pics of themselves toasting and dancing with the Christmas elf. At some point, she found herself in Timberman's arms with a glass of champagne in her hand. "Um; what?" she said, almost asking herself how she had gotten there. "I said you look lovely, tonight, Honey. Much better than in a shawl and sheath dress," he said, quickly twirling her around as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "Twirling makes my skirt go up; I'm dizzy," she murmured. A familiar dark figure flashed in the background and disappeared as Timberman turned her again. She looked around, trying to find the figure again, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Why was he there? Had she been singing again? "Well, I'll make sure nobody twirls you, my dear," he said, twirling her and smiling as her skirt flew up her long candy-cane striped legs. "The wives wouldn't like it." "I like your wife's dress Mr. Timberman; looks warm. It covers her ass when she sits, too," she slurred, frowning in confusion at the dark red drink in her hand now. Zach was frowning, and then he just looked blurry again as she swirled around. Maybe swirling made it harder for him to kill her. Why did he want to kill her? It just wasn't fair. Timberman leaned down and dipped her, "I'll make sure to give her your compliments. You know, if you like what wives wear, you should consider getting married. Lee is quite taken with you, you know," he said, stroking his hand against the soft pink velvet of her dress. Honey found herself drifting away and wandering inside her head again, thinking about Lee; he was handsome in an overly-polished way, said funny things, but they always sounded a little mean, like he wanted to be the only one laughing; and he also took her away from the food plate that just floated by on a table. It was still full. She should have eaten that food. What time was it? "He likes my boobs; and he doesn't want to kill me," she agreed eventually, surprised to find that Timberman was gone and she was dancing with Lee James again. "Well, I can't blame him for that; they're fucking perfect; just like everything else. I'm gonna come on them after you suck me off; he murmured, pulling her closer against him. "Let me take you home, Honey; penthouse view of the city; "Umm; no, that's not home; I live in the; railroad place; with the trains?" Honey explained, pointing in what she thought was the direction of the Lowertown Commons. Why did every guy think she lived with them tonight? "Sounds charming, Eliza Doolittle; you should trade up. You don't know how much I'd love twist your arms back and fuck this ass wide open over my balcony tonight," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and greedily squeezing her bottom. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Honey? I can tell; Lee whispered, his cologne invading her head and making her queasy. "I feel sick; Honey whimpered and staggered away, trying to find the quiet table where the food was that would make her less drunk. The dance floor was confusing, though, always turning around and thumping and flashing. She leaned against a pillar until she got a better sense of where she was. She liked the pillar. It was big and strong; and it stroked her hair. "Honey; wake up, Honey. Open your mouth. You need to take these," the vaguely familiar voice said, cutting through the sleep that had been blocking out some of the pain she felt everywhere. She obediently opened her mouth and the hand put two caplets on her tongue. A water bottle squirted a little cool liquid into her mouth until she moaned and sucked harder, desperate for more. "Not too much. Wait until you can hold that down. I'll give you more in a bit. You don't want that IV back, do you?" "Nuh" Honey groaned. She hated needles. Sure, just about every part of her body hurt more than a needle did, right now, but somehow needle pain felt personal. Like with Zach. He didn't seem like someone who went around wanting to choke everybody; just her. She was nobody special; just a simple girl who kept lawyers organized and tried to be nice. Then, someone wonderful like Zach thought she needed to die. That hurt. Something about her made him go from being tender and intensely loving to someone who; it just didn't make sense. What did she do? Mercifully, sleep faded the pain and clouded her thoughts. Voices below her intruded into a wonderful dream where she was bouncing on clouds. Though not in the same room, the voices seemed strangely clear. "I can't; Terry, she cries when I do that," the pills voice said, making her eyes fly open. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it for a year, but she would never forget it. Her body reacted with a confused mix of emotions, her cheeks flushing and adrenaline searing a path all through her at the same time. "That's because it hurts her. You know what hurts more? Bedsores. Man up. Use the pillows to prop her weight against the parts that aren't hurt on whichever side. It's either this, or she goes back to the hospital, and I have it on good authority you won't be allowed to visit after what happened." "She was screaming; Zach gritted. "Yeah, well they were putting her shoulder back in. People scream. That still doesn't excuse what you did. Since when did you become such a pussy about pain?" Terry asked. "since her." "oh my god." "Shut up," Zach grunted. "Oh my god; "Yeah, that's not shutting up." "The great Z-dog has been taken down;" "Shut up, maggot, it's not like that. I'm just taking care of h;" "By a little bitty pink Christmas elf; Terry laughed. There was a scuffling sound and then a loud whoomp and a forceful exhalation of air. "So, I turn her every few hours until she can do it for herself?" Zach asked, casually. "Yes, sir," Terry choked. "Anything else?" "Clear liquids until she can hold stuff down. Talk to her. Ask her questions. If she seems disoriented or part of her face goes slack, she goes back to the hospital. Don't fuck around." "Got it. Are you squared away, or do we need to discuss this further?" "Squared away, sir," Terry choked, then gasped in relief, panting faintly. "Jesus Christ, you haven't lost your touch. We on for the hump tomorrow at 0 500?" "No. I'm gonna stick close here until she's;" "Got it. Hey, maybe they have those Baby Bjorn things in elf-size. Then, you could just strap her onto your ba; ow! ow! ow, ow, ow!" "You weren't particularly attached to the rest of that sentence, were you, maggot?" Zach growled. "Sir, no sir; Terry squeaked. "I didn't think so. You'll be back here Wednesday," Zach stated, more as an order than a question. "Yeah, if you want me to. Honestly, right now she just needs rest and TLC more than a medic. That stands for 'tender loving care' by the way, not;" "You were just going," Zach said, as the voices moved to another end of the room below her. "Hey, you wanna know what makes an elf's toes curl up like tha;" Terry asked, his question cut off by the slamming of the door. Honey listened, trembling and terrified as Zach paced the floor below her. Though his voice hadn't changed, he sounded nothing like the man that had wooed her so tenderly a year ago. He sounded dangerous, brutal even. He definitely sounded like the kind of person that went around wanting to choke everyone, she thought, strangely relieved that her heartbreak felt a little less personal. How could she have been so wrong in her impression of him? She looked around the room, understanding now how the voices had reached her so easily. She was in an open industrial loft bedroom that opened onto the main floor below. Looking around, she realized she must be in Zach's huge bed, though if the crisply made side next to her was any indication, he hadn't been sleeping in it with her. Looking down her body, she gasped quietly. Her left arm was in a sling strapped to her chest, her legs were covered in bruises, and the right leg that was being stabbed with an invisible knife right now, was wrapped up in an air cast boot. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was feeling sick as she tried to get away from Lee's groping hands on the dance floor. After that; nothing. How did she get here? A beeping noise sounded below and Zach walked across the room to what sounded like a kitchen. The sound of water being poured into a cup, the ringing of a spoon stirring it, a pill bottle being opened. Honey shivered, realizing he was probably coming up to her, soon. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, feigning sleep. Steps ascending to the loft bedroom. Ankle stabbing, stab, stab, stab, stab with every panicked heartbeat. A tray went down on the nightstand next to her. A chair across the room was lifted and set down by the bed. Honey told herself to breathe slowly, willing the tears welling behind her lids not to leak out of her eyes. He would leave her alone if she was sleeping, wouldn't he? "You're not sleeping," Zach's voice stated, quietly, and her stomach clenched in fear. "You've been waking up for these pills every four hours like a junkie. I know you don't want to talk to me, Honey, but until you're squared away, you're gonna have to. So, cut the crap, open your eyes, and let's get this done." Honey opened her eyes to see his grim face looking down at her. With one blink, large tears rolled down her pale cheeks, and Zach's jaw set angrily. Sitting down in the chair, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned his massive shoulders forward, looking at her. His hands looked like they could crush rocks as he gripped them together. "Let's get some things straight. I don't know what you think you know about me, but acting like I'm some kind of psycho is pretty shitty. You want nothing of me, that's fine, but you're hurt because you screamed and flung yourself down some stairs rather than let me help you to an Uber. You're staying here until you're well, because some shithead at that party gave you enough roofies to be in a coma for almost 3 days and I'm not dragging my ass to that rat trap of yours in the Commons every day to make sure they don't come back while you're weak. Are we clear?" he asked. Honey swallowed and nodded, wincing at the pain in her neck and head. That just seemed to make Zach angrier. "While you are here, you will do as you're told. You will eat what you get, and you will not complain. You see these, here?" he said, holding up the magic caplets that made everything better. "These are the last ones you're getting. I'm switching you to ibuprofen and Tylenol because, unchecked, this Sackler shit will fuck you up for good and that's not happening on my watch. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes," Honey whispered. At the sound of her voice, Zach's mouth twitched, but at least he didn't look as angry as when she'd nodded and winced. "You will follow your doctor's orders to the last goddamn word. You will rest. You will do your therapy. You will let me help you and you will ask me for what you need because I am not a fucking mind reader. And so help me, if you do anything stupid like get out of that bed without me here to help you, or push yourself away from me like you did at Gatsby's, or any other drama shit that hurts even one hair on that head again, I will personally make you regret you were ever born." "Yes, Zach," Honey breathed, confused. Two more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned over to wipe them off on her shoulder and cried out in pain. Zach squeezed his clenched hands together and several of his knuckles cracked. "You don't use my name. You don't get to use my name. You're not getting under my skin again, you hear me?" Zach growled, using his rough knuckle to wipe her tears. "Orders a fucking angel shot in my own fucking club; fuck you. I don't have a name, you don't have a name. You're nothing to me. Understand?" "Yes, sir," she whispered. Honey leaned forward and took the last spoonful of broth into her mouth and swallowed, looking longingly at the noodles at the bottom of the cup. Zach caught a drop of broth at the bottom of her lower lip with the spoon and returned it to her mouth. "No," he said, seeing where her eyes lingered. "I can do it," she pleaded. "Please; I haven't had anything solid since; how long has it been?" "I said, no. You throw up on another pair of my skivvies and I'll be doing laundry twice a week," Zach said, dabbing her mouth with a paper towel. "Why do I have to wear your boxer briefs anyway? They feel weird. They have this hole-flap thing; and there are some places that aren't supposed to feel a breeze," Honey said, lifting the blanket to look down at his underwear loosely covering her hips. "Are you complaining?" he asked quietly. Honey's eyes darted quickly to his face, "No sir," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "I just thought if I had some of my things here, you wouldn't have to do the laundry so much." "I'll worry about what I have to do, Honey," he said, unthinkingly using her name. Startled, she looked up to see his eyes wandering over her, his massive t-shirt sleeves going down past her elbows. She felt ridiculous and disheveled, but something about the way he looked at her made her hold her breath. Then, without another word, he slurped the noodles out of the cup and took the tray downstairs. After that, the two settled into a quiet routine of him feeding her, giving her medicine, and watching her sleep most of the day. She would sometimes awaken to the soft repetitive sounds of him running on a treadmill, or the clinking of him lifting weights downstairs where she couldn't see him. Then, he would go to the bathroom and shower. After his shower, he came upstairs again in his towel and took some clothes from his dresser before going back downstairs to change. Honey found herself looking forward to those few seconds each day, watching his droplet-covered torso twist as he leaned over his dresser. He frowned as he flipped through his carefully folded underwear. "You wearing the grey ones?" he asked, not looking at her. Honey peeked under the covers, "Um, yes sir," she replied. "I'm supposed to wear the grey ones today," he grumbled to himself. Honey didn't say anything. Zach was the one who picked out which underwear she wore today. He was the one who looked away while he painstakingly slipped the old ones off her hips and pulled the new ones over her boot and up her legs until her bottom was covered again. There was nothing about her life that wasn't chosen and executed by him. If he wasn't happy about the color of his underwear, that was his fault. Still, Zach kept rummaging around in his underwear drawer as if another crisply folded grey pair would somehow magically appear. Finally, rather than offend him by laughing, Honey spoke, "Um; you know, if they're clean, I could wear the pair I had on when I went to the hospital and you could have these. It would get you back on schedule; Zach lifted his head from the drawer and glared at her, as if he thought she was making fun of him. Honey held carefully still and shrugged her uninjured limb. She wasn't making fun, she just wanted to help. The movement caused the huge neckline to gape over to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. She waited as Zach stared impassively at her, the vein at his neck throbbing. After a long moment, he walked over and stood next to her, the tuck of his towel right next to her face. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of his wet body and the bar soap he used. A rivulet of water painstakingly slid from his chest and down his abdomen, until finally disappearing into the tightly twisted white cotton. Honey glanced up to see that he had been reading her face as she watched the droplet's progress. With a shaking breath, she blushed and pulled the covers higher with her good arm. With a twist of his mouth, Zach pulled the neckline back over her shoulder again and quickly left the room. That night, after leaving her with a video baby monitor watching her on the nightstand, Zach returned with a bag of her underwear and some of her nightgowns. After watching her excitedly sort through them, Zach pushed them aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "There were a bunch of boxes with tags on them in your living room. What's that about?" he asked. Honey's eyes dropped, "Oh; that's the charity gift thing for kids. You sign up and get them something they wished for and wrap it up so they can have something under the tree, when they wouldn't have something otherwise. It's nice, you know? I signed up for a bunch and I was supposed to wrap them and get them back to the law firm, but I guess; sorry kids," she trailed off. Looking furious, yet carefully impassive at the same time, Zach cursed under his breath and left again, returning with the packages and a huge stack of unused Styrofoam clamshells from Gatsby's, and dumped them on the bed next to her. For the next few hours, they "wrapped" the presents, Zach carefully fitting items into an appropriate-sized takeout box, and Honey trying to make them pretty with ribbons. As she watched him work, occasionally cursing under his breath, she found herself smiling at his frowning face when he was strategizing how to fit a basketball into three disassembled clamshells. "What are you laughing at?" he said, glaring when he caught her at it. "I wasn't laughing. I was smiling." "Why were you smiling, then?" he asked. "I guess; I just like you; sir," she said, glancing over at him. Honey saw a hopeful softness steal into Zach's eyes until he forcibly wrestled it down and a look of hooded sarcasm shaded them. "Yeah, well; fool me once," he sneered. Angry, Honey closed her eyes, blocking him out the only way she could. "You know, that's; that's not fair. Not after what you said; you scared me!" she said, frustrated that, once again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Zach choked out a mirthless laugh, "I scared you? What did I say, Honey? What did I fucking say? God! I was on eggshells all night trying not to fuck it up with you and then you just; why? Those creeps you were dancing with at that party, those fucking 'nice guys' that drugged you, they were saying shit that made my skin crawl! I didn't even kiss you! I couldn't! I could barely breathe just for looking at you on our date; you looked just like a fucking angel. What did I say, Honey? What did I say?" Honey reached over and grabbed her phone, flipping through her photo album to a screenshot taken shortly before she blocked his number. "You didn't say it; you texted it. I remember watching you leave for the restroom thinking I'd met the love of my life and then you sent me this; she said, handing her phone to him. Zach took the phone, his face going from an angry red to pale horror in a matter of seconds. "This; this; he gasped, "I didn't; send this; to you; he said, shaking his head. "Whoever had your phone did, sir!" she said, emphasizing the last word, making him wince. "I spent the last year thinking you wanted to do that to me; to kill me. Every time I felt you watching me, every crowd I saw you show up in, every dark room I had to go into, that's what I thought about. I thought that a man I was head over heels about; that I could be so wrong about him. So, excuse me for thinking I liked you, sir. I promise it won't ever happen again!" Honey cried herself to sleep that night, refusing to speak to, or even look at Zach again. When she awoke, the bedroom was empty, and a glass of water and a pain pill were waiting on the nightstand. After swallowing the pill, she stared at the ceiling, furious. She didn't want to be there anymore, to be helpless and dependent on him, to obey all his stupid rules. He didn't deserve to take care of her. So, she tightened the straps on her boot and increased the air pressure to hold her broken ankle tightly enough to walk without her crutches. Then, she took off Zach's t-shirt, pulled on her elf dress, and called herself an Uber. It was when she saw the anticipated arrival time of 8 minutes that she realized her mistake. There was no way for her to get down from the loft and out of the apartment quietly in that amount of time. If she used the crutches, she would be able to descend the stairs quickly enough, but they made such a distinctive clicking racket that they would surely wake up her gorilla-like guard. If she hopped down the stairs on her good foot, it might have worked, but her good arm was on the opposite side and she kept losing her balance. Eventually she decided on the most painful course, of going down on her good and bad legs, using her good arm for support. Her boot thunked horribly the first few times, until she got the hang of it and could place it more quietly on the next step and then hop her good foot down to support it before the scream inside her could escape her lips. By the time she reached the bottom, though, she was shaking with pain and exhausted. Curiosity forced her to look around the rest of the apartment as she caught her breath, sitting on the bottom step. It was clean and unmistakably masculine. Exercise equipment took up a lot of the space not already claimed by a leather couch and TV arrangement. Zach lay on the couch, made up with sheets to act as a bed, his feet sticking out over the arm, his hand tucked under the back of his head, his chest rising and falling under the rumpled sheet. If she wasn't so angry, she'd find him handsome; or maybe he still was handsome, she thought grudgingly, closing her eyes miserably and looking away. Why couldn't he be ugly? Life wasn't fair. Uber. Right. Screwing up her courage for what was ahead, she stood and slowly hobbled across the hardwood floor, agonizing over every painful thump and noisy squeak until she finally reached the door. She unlocked the five locks on his large door, each of them being well-oiled and working perfectly. She expected no less of her anal-retentive, grey-skivvies-on-Tuesdays captor. Finally, she tugged open the heavy door to find endless flights of icy steel-mesh stairs leading all the way down to the street where her Uber was waiting. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me; she cried, breaking down into tears. A strong arm slid down around her waist and mercifully shifted her weight off her throbbing foot, "I know. It sucks. You should try it with a rucksack full of bricks," Zach said, leaning his head down and breathing into her hair. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Let me take care of you; please," Zach murmured into the top of her head, "I; it was my fault this happened to you. I scared you, I know that now; but, please believe me that I would never want to hurt or frighten you like that." "It wasn't just that text," she said, pulling her head away and looking up at him angrily. "All year, I never had a moment's peace. Even when I couldn't see you, I could feel you waiting in the quiet or dark places. Even if you weren't there;" "I was there," he confessed. "I was always there. I didn't understand what had gone wrong. You didn't want to talk to me, and the world just didn't make sense to me unless I knew where you were, what you were doing; unless I knew you were safe." "Maybe you knew I was safe, but I didn't! I thought I'd done something; that somehow I deserved to have this beautiful, scary monster hunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done to destroy something that was so; wonderful." "You didn't do anything, Honey. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You were so perfect that I couldn't keep; you didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to send you that message; please, please believe me." "Why did you send it?" she asked, finally looking up into his eyes. The dark blue liquid pools of her eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and Zach felt a tightening in his chest. "I; I can't tell you that; but it was never meant for you." "You mean, you meant to send that message to someone else? To hurt them like that?" "Honey, I; Zach said, looking around, unable to meet her eyes, "Please, I can't; you wouldn't understand; my life isn't like that anymore." "I want to go home, Zach; please," she whispered. Zach closed his eyes for a long moment before he swallowed and nodded, looking like he was in more pain than she was. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? Or Terry will, if you don't want me to. He'll check the place out, make sure you're set up and safe there. You're tired, you're hurting, and your Uber's gone, now. Let me take you back upstairs and you can go in the morning. Please." At that moment, a throb of pain shot through her entire leg, and as angry as Honey was, she knew she couldn't face her empty apartment without a few more hours of rest. "Okay," she whispered. To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Why Do So Many Mentorship Relationships Fail Before They Ever Work? “You can't be more committed to somebody's success than they are.” That insight comes from Colleen Stanley, author of Be the Mentor Who Mattered, during a recent conversation on the Sales Gravy Podcast. It's a simple statement that cuts through all the noise about mentorship and gets to the heart of why most mentoring relationships fail to deliver results. Sales professionals constantly talk about wanting mentors. They want access to someone who's been there, done that, and can show them the shortcuts. But when they get that access, they squander it. They show up unprepared. They argue with advice. They never implement what they learn. On the flip side, experienced sales leaders say they want to give back and mentor the next generation. But they get burned out after investing time in people who don't follow through. So they stop offering help altogether. The problem isn't a lack of willing mentors or eager mentees. The problem is that nobody understands their role in making mentorship work. What Mentees Get Wrong About Mentorship Most people treat mentorship like a magic pill, assuming that simply being near someone successful will transfer that success to them. It doesn't work that way. Getting real value from a mentor requires more than just showing up. You need to actively do the work that makes their guidance worthwhile. Start by focusing on these key actions: Ask Directly The biggest barrier to mentorship isn't that successful people won't help you. It's that you never ask. You assume they're too busy, too important, or too far removed from your situation to care. You're wrong on all three counts. Successful people got where they are because someone helped them along the way. Most of them want to pay that forward. But they're not mind readers. If you want help, ask for it directly. Respect Their Time When you do ask, come prepared. Don't ask for “15 minutes to pick your brain.” That's code for “I haven't thought about what I actually need, so I'm going to waste your time figuring it out.” Instead, be specific. “I'm struggling with qualifying early in the sales process. Could you share how you approach qualification conversations?” Specific questions get specific answers. Vague requests get vague responses—or none at all. Do What They Tell You to Do This is where most mentoring relationships die. You ask for advice. You get great guidance. Then you come back with a list of reasons why it won't work for your situation. Stop that. If you're going to ask someone for their expertise, try their approach before explaining why your situation is different. You're there because they know more than you do. Acting like you know better defeats the entire purpose. Your mentor's reward isn't money or recognition. It's watching you take their advice and succeed because of it. When you implement what they teach and come back with results, they'll invest even more in your development. When you make excuses, they'll move on. Take Tough Feedback Without Getting Defensive Not every mentor has read the latest book on constructive feedback. Some of them are direct or blunt. Take it anyway. When someone cares enough about your success to tell you the truth—even when it's uncomfortable—that's a gift. Don't reject it because it wasn't wrapped perfectly. The best mentors don't sugarcoat feedback because they respect you enough to be honest. They see potential in you that you can't see yet, and they're not going to let you waste it by staying comfortable. What Mentors Get Wrong About Mentorship If you're in a position to mentor others, you already know the frustration of investing in someone who doesn't follow through. It's exhausting. Eventually, you start to wonder if it's worth your time at all. Before you close yourself off completely, it's important to understand the common patterns that cause mentoring relationships to stall. Waiting for the Perfect Mentee There is no perfect mentee. Everyone who asks for your help is going to be rough around the edges. They'll make mistakes. They might waste some of your time. That's the cost of mentoring. The real question isn't whether someone is polished. It's whether they're committed. Are they showing up prepared? Are they implementing what you teach? Are they making progress, even if it's slow? If the answer is yes, keep investing. If it's no, redirect your energy elsewhere. Just don't let one bad experience make you cynical about everyone. Trying to Control Their Path Your job as a mentor isn't to create a clone of yourself. It's to help someone develop their own approach using the principles that made you successful. They might take your advice and apply it differently. They might adapt it to their personality, their market, or their selling style. That's not wrong. That's the point. Stay unattached to the outcome. You can't be more invested in their success than they are. Give them your best insights, support their growth, and let them own the results. Mentoring the Wrong People Not everyone needs your specific expertise. Some people need tactical help with prospecting. Some need strategic guidance. Others need coaching on emotional intelligence. Look for the multipliers. Mentor people who will take what you teach them and use it to help others. When someone you mentor goes on to mentor others, your impact grows far beyond what you could achieve alone. That doesn't mean only mentoring future executives. It means finding people who are genuinely committed to growth and generous enough to share what they learn. The Real Value of Mentorship Mentorship isn't a transaction. It's not about what you can get from someone more successful or what you owe someone less experienced. It's about creating a community where people help each other get better. Where progress matters more than perfection. Where tough feedback is welcomed because everyone knows it comes from a place of care. Having someone in your corner who believes in your potential—even when you don't—can be the difference between quitting and breaking through. But that only works if both sides understand their role. Mentees must show up ready to learn and willing to act. Mentors must show up ready to tell the truth and willing to invest. Find the mentors who will challenge you. Be the mentor who changes someone else's trajectory. Ready to take the next step in your development? Finding the right mentor or coach can transform your sales career—if you know what to look for. Learn how to identify the coach who's right for you with our FREE How to Find the Right Coach for You Guide.   

Anne Ghesquière reçoit le nutritionniste Olivier Bourquin. Cortisol, sérotonine, dopamine, GABA. Quel rôle jouent nos hormones et neurotransmetteurs dans notre énergie, notre motivation, notre appétit ou notre sérénité ? Mais que se passe-t-il vraiment dans notre corps lorsque nous sommes fatigués, irritables, stressés ou que notre sommeil se dérègle ? Le système nerveux autonome est-il la clé de notre santé globale ? Comment agir concrètement sur notre alimentation, notre respiration, notre sommeil ou notre activité physique pour retrouver l'équilibre ? Olivier Bourquin propose une approche holistique et accessible pour comprendre ces messagers du corps et reprendre la main sur notre vitalité. Son livre Cortisol, dopamine, sérotonine… La révolution des hormones et des neurotransmetteurs, est publié aux éditions Eyrolles. Épisode #649Quelques citations du podcast avec Olivier Bourquin :"Ouvre tes narines et ferme ta bouche et tout tout ira mieux.""La fonction générale d'un être humain, ce serait d'être serein.""Si je mange bio et que je ne mâche pas, ça n'a aucun intérêt de manger bio."Recevez chaque semaine l'inspirante newsletter Métamorphose par Anne GhesquièreDécouvrez Objectif Métamorphose, notre programme en 12 étapes pour partir à la rencontre de soi-même.Suivez nos RS : Insta, Facebook & TikTokAbonnez-vous sur Apple Podcast / Spotify / Deezer / CastBox / YoutubeSoutenez Métamorphose en rejoignant la Tribu MétamorphoseThèmes abordés lors du podcast avec Olivier Bourquin :00:00Introduction02:00Présentation invité04:23L'injonction à la performance06:38Une approche holistique de la santé09:22Détecter le manque de N.O11:42Le rôle de la dopamine13:05Préférences motrices et différents profils16:34Bien réguler sa dopamine19:34Sérénité et sérotonine21:54Le rôle fondamental de l'acétylcholine25:21Le GABA, tour de contrôle du cerveau28:09L'impact d'un cortisol déséquilibré29:43Les enjeux hormonaux chez la femme31:57Comment réguler le cortisol33:01Stimuler son nerf vague41:13Bouche ouverte et mouth taping43:33Profils MBTI et profils hormonaux ?46:00Le profil Rationnel ou dopaminergique46:20Le profil Idéaliste ou cholinergique48:10 Le profil Artisan ou sérotoninergique48:53Le profil Gardien ou GABAergique51:18Test pour connaître son profil53:24Conseils nutrition57:59L'enjeu de l'eau01:01:27Un jeûne intermittent adapté01:03:00La routine d'Olivier Bourquin post burn-outAvant-propos et précautions à l'écoute du podcast Photo DR Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

Send us a textWe see it constantly: salon owners saying they're overwhelmed, stressed, exhausted, and unsure what to work on next. They're putting in the effort, working long hours, and still feeling behind, and it doesn't have to be that way.In this episode, we break down why overwhelm shows up so often for salon owners and why it's usually not a time or effort problem. We talk about bad advice, vague soundbites, echo chambers, and the pressure to do everything at once, and how all of that creates mental fatigue instead of progress.We also share practical ways to reduce overwhelm immediately: narrowing priorities, identifying what season your business is in, eliminating services and tasks that don't serve you, focusing on one problem at a time, and replacing multitasking with focused work that actually moves your business forward.Your business should serve you, so that you can serve others.If you're feeling overwhelmed, this episode will help you slow the noise, regain clarity, and take back control — one decision at a time.Key TakeawaysOverwhelm is usually a priority problem, not a workload problem.Vague advice and soundbites create confusion, not clarity.Multitasking increases stress and reduces meaningful progress.Focused work outperforms scattered effort.Small wins build momentum; something is always better than nothing.Simplifying services and tasks reduces mental load.Every business moves through seasons; you can't work on all of them at once.Money, people, demand, and systems are the most common constraints.Systems reduce chaos and decision fatigue over time.Overwhelm fades when clarity, focus, and ownership increase.Time Stamps00:00 — Why salon owners feel overwhelmed 01:00 — Jen's opening take: saying no, staying in your lane 04:00 — Todd's opening takes: technician vs owner + complacency 06:00 — Bad advice, soundbites, and industry echo chambers 09:00 — Why vague guidance creates paralysis 11:00 — Multitasking, task-switching, and mental fatigue 13:00 — Focused work blocks and the “accomplished list” 15:00 — Small wins > doing nothing 16:00 — Confirmation bias and online noise 18:00 — Eliminating services, simplifying menus, reducing friction 20:00 — Business seasons: growth, repair, stabilization, preparation 22:00 — Stop trying to do every season at once 23:00 — Common constraints: money, people, demand, systems 25:00 — Systems reduce chaos and decision fatigue 27:00 — Avoidance, uncomfortable tasks, and leadership growth 29:00 — Final thoughts: focus, clarity, one step forwardLinks and Stuff:Our Newsletter Mentoring InquiriesFind more of our things:InstagramHello Hair Pro Website

In this episode, we unpack why many doctor coaches avoid making clear or bold promises in their marketing, and how that avoidance is quietly costing them clients. There's a uniquely physician-specific layer at play: medical training, the “do no harm” mindset, and the fear of being seen as inexperienced.You'll learn why coaching is not a clinical outcome, what you're actually promising when you promise results, and why specificity creates safety in the buyer's brain. This episode reframes confidence, experience, and responsibility so you can stand behind a clear Point B, even before you have testimonials.What You'll LearnWhy doctor coaches feel especially uncomfortable promising specific resultsThe hidden fears that drive vague marketingHow vagueness signals uncertainty and risk to potential clientsWhy coaching outcomes are belief-led, not clinically guaranteedWhat it really means to “promise results”The difference between owning outcomes vs. owning the processHow to confidently sign clients even without testimonialsThe identity shift that creates real authority as a coachKey TakeawaysWhy Doctor Coaches Stay Vague Many new coaches avoid specific promises out of fear—fear of being questioned, blamed, or seen as inexperienced. The issue isn't bold promises; it's uncertainty in positioning.The Doctor-Specific Trap “Do no harm” often gets misapplied to marketing, causing doctors to treat coaching like a clinical guarantee instead of belief-led change.Why Vagueness Hurts Sales Buyers' brains crave clarity. Vague messaging signals risk and uncertainty. Specificity creates safety and confidence.What You're Actually Promising You're not controlling outcomes—you're owning the bridge: the process that moves someone from Point A to Point B.What the Coach Owns The process, belief in the process, belief in the client, coaching frameworks, and skillful work with resistance—all within your control.What the Client Owns Showing up, engaging discomfort, and using the process—skills you help them learn as part of the bridge.Confidence Without Testimonials If you've coached yourself to a result, you already have proof. Helping others change is often easier than changing yourself.The Identity Shift Adopt this belief: I am the coach who figures it out. This identity creates confidence, follow-through, and mastery over time.Let's Connect: On Instagram On Facebook On LinkedIn On TikTok On my website

Invité :Arnaud Benedetti, Professeur associé à Paris-Sorbonne, ancien rédacteur en chef de la « Revue politique et parlementaire Débatteurs :Sébastien Lignier, chef du service politique à Valeurs ActuellesEric Revel, journalisteHébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Marley Kayden breaks down Broadcom (AVGO) earnings and what investors are looking for in the future. The report was “a little more vague” than the Street was looking for, she says, especially in regards to guidance. Marley notes that analysts are staying bullish overall. Dan Deming brings an example options trade for AVGO. ======== Schwab Network ========Empowering every investor and trader, every market day.Subscribe to the Market Minute newsletter - https://schwabnetwork.com/subscribeDownload the iOS app - https://apps.apple.com/us/app/schwab-network/id1460719185Download the Amazon Fire Tv App - https://www.amazon.com/TD-Ameritrade-Network/dp/B07KRD76C7Watch on Sling - https://watch.sling.com/1/asset/191928615bd8d47686f94682aefaa007/watchWatch on Vizio - https://www.vizio.com/en/watchfreeplus-exploreWatch on DistroTV - https://www.distro.tv/live/schwab-network/Follow us on X – / schwabnetwork Follow us on Facebook – / schwabnetwork Follow us on LinkedIn - / schwab-network About Schwab Network - https://schwabnetwork.com/about

"Good laws are designed to judge visible actions, not internal emotional states." Sponsor: https://exodus90.com/brian Support the channel by visiting: https://brianholdsworth.ca/help Clear laws protect ordinary people. Vague laws empower authorities. In this video, I explain why legal certainty is essential to justice, how hate-speech laws undermine the rule of law, and why criminalizing intent and offense opens the door to arbitrary enforcement and abuse of power — using real-world examples from the UK, Canada, and beyond.

If your product isn't selling, it might not be the product — it might be the way you're talking about it. In this episode, I'm walking you through two real-life examples from Facebook groups where the offer sounded impressive… but totally missed the mark. We're talking clarity, friction, and what actually makes someone hit "buy" — plus the one question you have to answer if you want your offer to land. This is the business truth that turns a lukewarm product into a viral one. Let's get into it. RESOURCES MENTIONED NOTE: Some links below contain affiliate/referral links. It is a way for this site to earn advertising fees by advertising or linking to certain products and/or services. DISCOUNT: Code for 30+ free days of Podcast Audio Hosting through Libsyn: bossgirl RESOURCE: Need a Podcast Editor? Hire mine & tell him I referred you…The Podcast Man WORK WITH ME: Back Pocket VIP Coaching YOUTUBE CHANNEL: Subscribe >> The House of Sugar Creek MY BOOK: Snag a copy! Pillars & Purpose: How to Build a Business That Works for You RESOURCE: Contract Templates for your Business YOUTUBE CHANNEL: Subscribe to the BGC YouTube Channel and listen to my episodes via YouTube! MY 90-DAY UNDATED PLANNER: Buy it here! RESOURCE: Receive 20% off your first month or your first year with Dubsado RESOURCE: Receive 50% off your first full year with FloDesk (+ a 14-day free trial) LEAVE A MESSAGE: Click Here SEARCH BAR CONFESSIONS: Starts at 6:13 BUSINESS NUGGET: Starts at 9:46 RESOURCE: Check out Hilma products – $10 off for ya! RESOURCE: The Clarity Catch-Up Mini Workbook (FREEBIE) RESOURCE: The Clarity Code (reflection deck) RESOURCE: The Clarity Shot EPISODES YOU MIGHT ALSO ENJOY... EPISODE 547 – YOU HAVE A TRAFFIC PROBLEM EPISODE 538 – FROM KEYWORD CHAOS TO COURSE CLARITY EPISODE 498 – PRODUCTIVITY MAPPING, HIRING & DEALING WITH SICKNESS EPISODE 448 – DOING HARD THINGS IN BUSINESS EPISODE 398 – WAYS TO GET FREE LEADS EPISODE 348 – CREATING INTENTION IN YOUR BUSINESS EPISODE 298 – WHY YOUR BUSINESS NEEDS TO BE OVERSUBSCRIBED EPISODE 248 – PILLAR SERIES: PROMOTING GREAT CONTENT EPISODE 198 – SEO TIPS FOR CREATIVES EPISODE 148 – SQUIRREL MOMENTS THAT ARE BENEFICIAL FIND TAYLOR ONLINE... Blog – The House of Sugar Creek Instagram – @taylorlbradford Facebook – bossgirlcreative Pinterest – thehouseofsugarcreek TikTok – @taylorlbradford YouTube – The House of Sugar Creek YouTube – Boss Girl Creative

Hey DocIf you've ever left a meeting with leadership thinking, “Why did I even bother?” I've been there.Vague emails. Rambling explanations. Trying to be heard and ending up dismissed.This episode is about doing it differently. With clarity. With strategy. And without bending over backwards to be “nice” about it.You'll learn:How to prep before the ask (so you're not just venting)What to focus on depending on who you're talking toThe difference between making a request vs. negotiatingHow to frame your ask so it actually gets tractionAnd why empathy for your boss doesn't mean you give up your askThis isn't about playing politics.It's about getting what you need without second-guessing your right to ask — whether it's your schedule, your inbox load, or the support that makes your job sustainable.✨Want a quick step-by-step summary to prep for your next meeting or email?Download my free guide: How to Ask for What You Want at Work.You'll get the exact questions I use with clients to help you clarify your ask, prep with strategy, and show up with confidence.

Qui a pu passer à côté de la vague du chocolat "Dubaï style" ? Si jamais, vous avez manqué le début de l'histoire, je vous remets à niveau...Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

On this episode of Registry Matters…. we unpack a Pennsylvania trial court's ruling that SORNA's internet-identifier rules are unconstitutionally vague—what “overbroad enforcement” looks like in practice and why due process matters—introduce a new searchable transcript tool that centralizes years of Registry Matters insights so PFRs can quickly find answers on laws, supervision, and reentry, and...

In early 2022, Andrew's attorneys filed a motion to dismiss the lawsuit, contending that Giuffre's complaint did not “articulate what supposedly happened” with sufficient detail. They argued the claims were too general — lacking precise dates, clear descriptions of where alleged events occurred, and specific conduct — which, they said, made it impossible for Andrew to respond meaningfully or defend himself. This line of attack framed the allegations as legally insufficient because they allegedly failed to meet the standards required to bring a viable civil case.The court rejected that argument. A federal judge overseeing the case found that Giuffre had provided enough detail — about timing (early 2000s), locations (including a London residence and properties tied to Jeffrey Epstein), and context (her status as a minor and trafficking victim) — to allow the lawsuit to proceed. The judge ruled that the complaint was not “too vague” to survive a motion to dismiss, meaning that Giuffre's core claims had been sufficiently described to proceed toward discovery or resolution.to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-moscow-murders-and-more--5852883/support.

In early 2022, Andrew's attorneys filed a motion to dismiss the lawsuit, contending that Giuffre's complaint did not “articulate what supposedly happened” with sufficient detail. They argued the claims were too general — lacking precise dates, clear descriptions of where alleged events occurred, and specific conduct — which, they said, made it impossible for Andrew to respond meaningfully or defend himself. This line of attack framed the allegations as legally insufficient because they allegedly failed to meet the standards required to bring a viable civil case.The court rejected that argument. A federal judge overseeing the case found that Giuffre had provided enough detail — about timing (early 2000s), locations (including a London residence and properties tied to Jeffrey Epstein), and context (her status as a minor and trafficking victim) — to allow the lawsuit to proceed. The judge ruled that the complaint was not “too vague” to survive a motion to dismiss, meaning that Giuffre's core claims had been sufficiently described to proceed toward discovery or resolution.to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-epstein-chronicles--5003294/support.

Send us a textEver asked ChatGPT for help and gotten a bland, robotic response?Yeah, that's not AI's fault—it's yours. But don't worry, there's an easy fix.If AI's answers sound like a bad TED Talk and not like YOU, it's because you're missing this one magic sentence. Add it to any prompt and your results get 10x more useful.In Day 3 of 12 Days of AI Quick Wins, Dawn reveals the #1 reason AI sounds like a boring corporate intern—and how to fix it in one sentence. Whether you're writing posts, emails, or making strategy decisions, the “context sentence” is your new secret weapon. You'll hear real examples, quick rewrites, and why this one tweak makes ChatGPT feel like a real assistant (not a clueless robot).Your Day 3 Action:Go back to one of your saved prompts from Day 2. Add your personal context sentence to the front and save the new version. Boom. Your Founder Prompt Kit just got smarter and more YOU.Key Takeaways:Garbage in, garbage out. Vague prompts = vague answers.The fix: Add this sentence to every prompt: "I'm a [role] who needs [outcome] for [audience/situation]."Real talk AI: When you give context, AI writes like it gets you.Use cases covered: LinkedIn posts, team emails, strategic decisions.Founder mindset shift: You're not just typing—you're leading a conversation.Resources & Links:Get the full 12 Days of AI Quick Wins Toolkit – just $7Register FREE for the Day 13 Live AI Implementation Party – win a 90-minute Strategy IntensiveRelated EpisodesDAY 1: Stop Overthinking ChatGPT: Free vs. $20—Which One Actually Matters for FoundersDAY 2: The 3 AI Prompts Every Female Founder Needs in Her Phone (Copy These Now)Want to increase revenue and impact? Listen to “She's That Founder” for insights on business strategy and female leadership to scale your business. Each episode offers advice on effective communication, team building, and management. Learn to master routines and systems to boost productivity and prevent burnout. Our delegation tips and business consulting will advance your executive leadership skills and presence.

Giving Tuesday has become a global moment to celebrate generosity. But for believers, it can be much more than a once-a-year opportunity to give. It can become a catalyst to cultivate a lifestyle of intentional, joy-filled stewardship all year long.Today, we explore how to give with both heart and wisdom—so that our generosity reflects God's purposes, not merely the moment. Joining the conversation is Al Mueller, founder and CEO of Excellence in Giving and former executive with Morgan Stanley and UBS.Beyond the Moment: What Giving Tuesday Really RepresentsFor Al Mueller, Giving Tuesday is more than a charitable trend—it's an invitation.“Giving Tuesday is a great opportunity to begin acting on generosity,” he says, “but it's also a moment to pause and align with God's purposes.” Al reminds us of Paul's words in 2 Corinthians 9:7: “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart… for God loves a cheerful giver.”In other words, generosity is more than an impulse. It is an act of worship. Giving Tuesday can be a spark, but intentional stewardship is the flame that keeps burning throughout the year.Al summarizes biblical giving with a simple idea: “God gave us both a head and a heart—He didn't say pick one.”Wise stewardship holds both together:The heart expresses compassion, joy, and worship.The head evaluates impact, effectiveness, and alignment with God's purposes.Stewardship looks at the Kingdom outcomes we long to see and asks how we can best contribute to them. Some giving is planned, some spontaneous—but all of it can be intentional.Helping Donors Give With ExcellenceAt Excellence in Giving, Al and his team equip high-capacity givers—often those giving $1 million or more annually—to make well-informed, impactful decisions. They offer research, due diligence, and accountability that help donors shift from reactive to proactive giving.But these principles, Al emphasizes, are not reserved for the ultra-wealthy.“Everyone can do their own homework,” he says. “Everyone can ask good questions. Everyone can give intentionally.”Whether you're giving $50 or $50,000, evaluating ministries wisely matters. Al recommends starting with three core questions:What problem is the ministry trying to solve?What do they believe is the root cause of that problem?What measurable results have they seen?Healthy ministries provide clear reporting, measurable outcomes, and transparent leadership. They welcome questions and view accountability as part of discipleship.Key indicators to review include:Leadership stabilityDonor and staff retentionClear communicationTransparent financial practicesEvidence of life changeStrong ministries don't hide their results—they celebrate them.Red Flags: When to Think TwiceJust as there are markers of strong ministries, there are warning signs that should prompt caution:Vague vision without a clear planEmotional pressure or over-spiritualizing resultsLack of reporting or unwillingness to share outcomesOver-dependence on a single donorRepeated urgent appeals for fundsAl calls vague visions “ministry hallucinations”—dreams without blueprints. Just as you wouldn't build a house without plans, you shouldn't fund ministry without clarity.A Growing Trend: Collaborative GivingOne of the most exciting developments in philanthropy today is collaborative giving—donors pooling resources to make a larger, more strategic impact.Pooling resources:Helps ministries secure larger grantsReduces duplicationSaves ministries' valuable timeStrengthens unity within the body of Christ“This model lets donors and ministries accomplish something bigger together,” Al explains.No donor wants to micromanage, and no ministry seeks to be controlled. But accountability doesn't mean control—it means clarity.Al puts it this way: “Accountability is information given, not control taken.”Trust grows when ministries offer clear plans, measurable results, and honest reporting—what Al calls “a form of blessing” to donors.The Next Generation of GiversYounger donors give differently than their parents do. They are:More global in perspectiveMore results-orientedMore experiential—they want site visits and direct engagementMotivated by conviction rather than obligationPassionate about transparency and impactAl believes this next generation will reshape Christian generosity—mainly as significant wealth transfers occur in the coming decades.Al concludes with a powerful insight: there is a meaningful difference between being generous and being a steward.In the first century, a steward managed the household, finances, and fields on behalf of the master. The steward's job was simple: to know the heart of the master and act accordingly.Stewardship today means:Recognizing God owns it allSeeking His desires for His resourcesGiving with discernmentAiming to hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”Generosity is beautiful—but stewardship is a calling.Growing in Intentional GenerosityWhether you're giving on Giving Tuesday or cultivating lifelong generosity, the call is the same: give with joy, wisdom, and purpose.If you want to explore tools to help you give more strategically, you can learn more at ExcellenceInGiving.com. And if you'd like to partner with the mission of FaithFi, visit FaithFi.com/Partner to join us in helping believers integrate faith and financial decisions for the glory of God.On Today's Program, Rob Answers Listener Questions:What are your thoughts on annuities for someone approaching age 70?My wife and I are senior citizens and now have custody of our 10-year-old granddaughter—her father passed away, and her mother isn't involved. We want guidance on setting up a trust for her future. What's the best way to approach this?Resources Mentioned:Faithful Steward: FaithFi's Quarterly Magazine (Become a FaithFi Partner)Excellence in GivingWisdom Over Wealth: 12 Lessons from Ecclesiastes on MoneyLook At The Sparrows: A 21-Day Devotional on Financial Fear and AnxietyRich Toward God: A Study on the Parable of the Rich FoolFind a Certified Kingdom Advisor (CKA)FaithFi App Remember, you can call in to ask your questions every workday at (800) 525-7000. Faith & Finance is also available on Moody Radio Network and American Family Radio. You can also visit FaithFi.com to connect with our online community and partner with us as we help more people live as faithful stewards of God's resources. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

In this powerful conversation, Coach Frank is joined once again by psychologist and bestselling author Dr. Glenn Livingston (Never Binge Again) to break down one of the biggest hidden challenges men face: staying in control around food — especially during the holidays.   They explore why so many disciplined, successful men lose control with their eating this time of year, and how to indulge without guilt, compromise, or spiraling into a "start again Monday" setback.   Dr. Livingston reveals simple rules, identity-based strategies, and mindset shifts that allow men to enjoy the holidays while maintaining discipline, confidence, and self-respect — without obsessing, restricting, or apologizing for their goals.   Expect to Learn Why high-performers fall off more during the holidays — and how to stop it   The exact moment overeating starts — and how to intercept it   How to enjoy holiday food without losing control or waking up ashamed   Tools for navigating social pressure and family dynamics around food   Why perfectionism is the enemy of long-term health   The role of identity in lasting behavior change   How to set New Year's resolutions that actually work   Why emotional healing doesn't come before discipline — it comes after habits change   Key Takeaways Boundaries prevent guilt. You can indulge — but you must decide when, where, and how much ahead of time.   Social pressure is real — but manageable. Redirect conversations instead of defending your choices.   Clear food rules = less stress. Discipline is easier when your brain isn't negotiating every decision.   Mindful eating changes the experience. Slow down, taste your food, and stay present at the table.   Put your phone away during meals. Connection increases fulfillment and reduces overeating.   Identity is the long-term lever. Eat according to the man you're becoming — not the impulse of the moment.   Aim for consistency, not perfection. Small wins build momentum — and momentum builds belief.   Visualize consequences. Think beyond the moment and feel future outcomes before you act.   Behavior drives emotion. Fix your patterns first, and the emotional attachment to food begins to dissolve.   New Year's resolutions must be specific. Vague motivation fades — concrete rules stick.   Connect with Dr. Glenn Livingston: Website - https://www.defeatyourcravings.com/   Podcast - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/never-binge-again/id1262926738   --- Connect with Frank and The Super Human Life on Social Media: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/coachfrankrich/   Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/584284948647477/   Website: http://www.thesuperhumanlifepodcast.com/tshlhome   YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCjB4UrpxtNO2AFtDURMzoKQ    

durée : 00:02:36 - Regarde le monde - Ce sont les seules images qui témoignent de la violence de l'attaque : un dortoir vide et en désordre, des casiers ouverts, des affaires jetées sur le sol. Nous sommes à l'école catholique Saint-Mary de Papiri, au centre du pays. C'est là que 315 personnes ont été enlevées. Vous aimez ce podcast ? Pour écouter tous les autres épisodes sans limite, rendez-vous sur Radio France.

durée : 00:02:36 - Regarde le monde - Ce sont les seules images qui témoignent de la violence de l'attaque : un dortoir vide et en désordre, des casiers ouverts, des affaires jetées sur le sol. Nous sommes à l'école catholique Saint-Mary de Papiri, au centre du pays. C'est là que 315 personnes ont été enlevées. Vous aimez ce podcast ? Pour écouter tous les autres épisodes sans limite, rendez-vous sur Radio France.

CardioNerds (Dr. Kelly Arps, Dr. Naima Maqsood, and Dr. Elizabeth Davis) discuss chronic AF management with Dr. Edmond Cronin. This episode seeks to explore the chronic management of atrial fibrillation (AF) as described by the 2023 ACC/AHA/ACCP/HRS Guideline for the Diagnosis and Management of Atrial Fibrillation: A Report of the American College of Cardiology/American Heart Association Joint Committee on Clinical Practice Guidelines. The discussion covers the different AF classifications, symptomatology, and management including medications and invasive therapies. Importantly, the episode explores current gaps in knowledge and where there is indecision regarding proper treatment course, as in those with heart failure and AF. Our expert, Dr. Cronin, helps elucidate these gaps and apply guideline knowledge to patient scenarios. Audio editing for this episode was performed by CardioNerds intern Dr. Bhavya Shah. CardioNerds Atrial Fibrillation PageCardioNerds Episode PageCardioNerds AcademyCardionerds Healy Honor Roll CardioNerds Journal ClubSubscribe to The Heartbeat Newsletter!Check out CardioNerds SWAG!Become a CardioNerds Patron! Pearls Review the guidelines- Catheter ablation is a Class I recommendation for select patient groups  Appropriately recognize AF stages- preAF conditions, symptomatology, classification system (paroxysmal, persistent, long-standing persistent, permanent)  Be familiar with the EAST-AFNET4 trial, as it changed the approach of rate vs rhythm control  Understand treatment approaches- lifestyle modifications, management of comorbidities, rate vs rhythm control medications, cardioversion, ablation, pulmonary vein isolation, surgical MAZE  Sympathize with patients- understand their treatment goals  Notes Notes: Notes drafted by Dr. Davis.    What are the stages of atrial fibrillation?   The stages of AF were redefined in the 2023 guidelines to better recognize AF as a progressive disease that requires different strategies at the different therapies  Stage 1 At Risk for AF: presence of modifiable (obesity, lack of fitness, HTN, sleep apnea, alcohol, diabetes) and nonmodifiable (genetics, male sex, age) risk factors associated with AF  Stage 2 Pre-AF: presence of structural (atrial enlargement) or electrical (frequent atrial ectopy, short bursts of atrial tachycardia, atrial flutter) findings further pre-disposing a patient to AF  Stage 3 AF: patient may transition between these stages  Paroxysmal AF (3A): intermittent and terminates within ≤ 7 days of onset  Persistent AF (3B): continuous and sustained for > 7 days and requires intervention  Long-standing persistent AF (3C): continuous for > 12 months   Successful AF ablation (3D): freedom from AF after percutaneous or surgical intervention  Stage 4 Permanent AF: no further attempts at rhythm control after discussion between patient and clinician   The term chronic AF is considered obsolete and such terminology should be abandoned   What are common symptoms of AF?   Symptoms vary with ventricular rate, functional status, duration, and patient perception  May present as an embolic complication or heart failure exacerbation  Most commonly patients report palpitations, chest pain, dyspnea, fatigue, or lightheadedness. Vague exertional intolerance is common  Some patients also have polyuria due to increased production of atrial natriuretic peptide  Less commonly can present as tachycardia-associated cardiomyopathy or syncope  Cardioversion into sinus rhythm may be diagnostic to help determine if a given set of symptoms are from atrial fibrillation to help guide the expected utility of more aggressive rhythm control strategies.   What are the current guidelines regarding rhythm control and available options?  COR-LOE 1B: In patients with reduced LV function and persistent (or high burden) AF, a trial of rhythm control should be recommended to evaluate whether AF is contributing to the reduced LV function   COR-LOE 2a-B: In patients with reduced LV function and persistent (or high burden) AF, a trial of rhythm control should be recommended to evaluate whether AF is contributing to the reduced LV function. In patients with a recent diagnosis of AF (

Chris Church, VP of Engineering at Rainforest, breaks down why a zero bug policy is more than a technical choice. It is a mindset, an operating model, and a culture shift that shapes how engineering teams build, release, and support software at scale.In this conversation he goes inside the habits that actually make quality a strategic advantage and explains how small releases, strong visibility, and healthy engineering practices create real impact over time.Key Takeaways• Quality is not a feature. It is the foundation of trust, especially in a payments environment where even small defects can erode confidence.• Small releases reduce risk because teams can actually reason about the changes they ship. Frequency builds confidence and reliability.• Visibility is non negotiable. You cannot fix what you cannot see, so strong monitoring and clear alerts must exist before a quality culture can grow.• Teams need real capacity set aside for fixes and improvements. Without that buffer, bugs turn into a silent tax that slows down the entire org.• You can adopt a zero bug mentality even in a mature codebase, but you must commit to a long game of continuous improvement.Timestamped Highlights00:33What Rainforest actually does and why their customers rely on embedded payments01:44Chris explains what a zero bug policy means in practice for a fintech engineering team03:06Why the policy must be strict and why a backlog of broken things creates a false sense of safety06:13How Rainforest structures ownership, on call rotations, and incident response to support quality10:51Smaller releases, lower risk, and why the size of a change has a direct impact on failure modes12:59Why test coverage and automation must start early and why teams struggle when they try to catch up later14:27How to adopt this mindset if your org is nowhere near zero bugs and where to begin23:44The biggest gotchas teams underestimate when they start this journey and why progress requires patienceOne line that stands out“People overestimate what they can fix quickly and underestimate what they can improve over the long run.”Pro Tips• Start by making your system noisy. More visibility will feel painful at first, but it becomes the foundation for every improvement.• Reserve capacity for fixes before planning feature work. If you wait until later, that time will never appear.• Break tech debt into specific problems. Vague labels hide real risks and slow down prioritization.Call to ActionIf you found value in this conversation, follow the show and share it with someone who cares about engineering quality, team culture, and building software that lasts. You can also connect with me on LinkedIn for more conversations that explore people, impact, and technology.

You make smart business decisions all day long. ROI calculations. Risk assessments. Strategic planning. Then five o'clock hits and you clock out. Suddenly you're just winging it with your personal life. Wild, right? I spent years consulting business owners on quarterly goals and customer journeys. One day a successful client had this lightbulb moment: "I wish my personal life was this organized." That's when it clicked for me too. The same tools that build million-dollar businesses work for building the life you actually want. No separation needed. Just one you with one life that all blends together. Featured Story I'm sitting with a client mapping quarterly revenue targets and conversion rates. He's taking notes. Nodding. Excited about the plan. Then he stops with that look. You know the one. That millisecond when something just clicks in your brain. He says, "Man, I wish my personal life was this organized. I feel like I'm just making it up as I go." I laughed and said, "Well, we all are, aren't we?" Important Points You are one person with one life, and everything blends together whether you admit it or not. Vague goals get vague results, but specific goals get specific results. "I want to be happy" means nothing. "I'm at the gym at 6 a.m. three days a week" is a system you can actually build and measure. Positive ROI or die applies to your life just like it does in business. If you're spending 60% of your time for 10% satisfaction, that's terrible ROI and you wouldn't accept it in business, so why accept it in life? Memorable Quotes "Every day you and I make smart business and job decisions. ROI calculations, risk assessments, strategic planning. And then at five o'clock we clock out and what do we do? We wing it." "You wouldn't invest in your business and continue to get negative returns, would you? But so many people do it in their life." "If you don't know who you are, you cannot build a life that fits you. Just like a business. If a business sells the wrong product to the wrong customer, they do not have a business." Scott's Three-Step Approach Define your avatar. Get specific about who you are right now, not who you were five years ago or who your parents think you should be. What lights you up? What drains you? When do you feel most like yourself? If you don't know who you are, you cannot build a life that fits you. Design your product. Decide exactly what life you want with specific details, not vague wishes. Transform "I want to work out" into "I'm at the gym at 6 a.m. three days a week for 45 minutes." The more specific your solution, the easier it is to build because everything else just falls away. Build your system. Create daily non-negotiables and predictable habits that deliver results. Your habits absolutely dictate your success and happiness in life. If you don't have a system for delivery of you as a person, you're winging it and that's negative ROI all day long. Chapter Notes 0:03 - Clocking out and winging your personal life 0:48 - Smart people plan now, take holidays later 1:27 - The client meeting that changed everything 2:47 - Money matters, but so does staying married 5:01 - What you measure matters in life and business 5:39 - Your personal avatar: who are you really? 6:54 - Getting specific about the life you want 8:24 - Systems beat winging it every single time Connect With Me Search for the Daily Boost on YouTube, Apple Podcasts, and Spotify Email: support@motivationtomove.com Main Website: motivationtomove.com YouTube: youtube.com/dailyboostpodcast Instagram: @heyscottsmith Facebook Page: facebook.com/motivationtomove Facebook Group: Join the Daily Boost Community Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode, I break down exactly why healers struggle with financial stability and what you need to do to fix it. Spoiler: it's not about your gifts. It's about your identity, your embodiment, your energy, and your business foundations.

Richard Linklater returns to the Filmmaker Toolkit to discuss his loving recreation of the French New Wave. Linklater shares why the movies of that period meant so much to his filmmaking journey, and reflects on how much easier they had it making 'Breathless' than 'Nouvelle Vague' today. Listen to the Screen Talk Podcast. Every Friday IndieWire editors Anne Thompson & Ryan Lattanzio break down insider news from Hollywood and debate the latest films and series. https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/indiewire-screen-talk/id893977298 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hang out with us inside of Sync Producer Hub: https://www.syncproducerhub.com Join a live Sync Producer session where the host answers real-time questions, helps interpret dense sync briefs (dramedy grooves, tabloid/orchestral hip‑hop, hidden‑camera cues), and breaks down how to write tracks that publishers want. Highlights include community wins (first U.S. TV placement, merch drops), practical advice on pricing/licensing for radio and direct placements, using barter for tickets/credentials, and tips for preparing string/no‑string versions for libraries. Also covered: experiments with AI vocals, workflow and gear talk (Logic, MPC Key, Drum Machine Designer), upcoming Shades of Sync event, and live listener Q&A and brief walkthroughs to get producers unstuck.

En un mois, des dizaines d'enseignes du centre-ville de la commune du Loiret ont été victimes de cambriolages ou tentatives de cambriolage. Avec plusieurs milliers d'euros de pertes, les commerçants demandent aux élus des mesures de sécurité supplémentaires.Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

À la COP30 à Belém, aux portes de l'Amazonie, l'intégrité de l'information était au cœur des débats mercredi.Une douzaine de pays, dont le Brésil, le Canada, la France, l'Allemagne et l'Espagne, ont signé la première Déclaration sur l'intégrité de l'information climatique, pour contrer la désinformation.Une question devenue « aussi essentielle que la réduction des émissions », selon le président Lula da Silva.Depuis la COP30, Siyad Fayoumi, chargé d'information à ONU Climat, rentre dans le détail de la déclaration.(Extrait sonore : Siyad Fayoumi, chargé d'information ONU Climat ; propos recueillis par Cristina Silveiro)

Find the Blunder Exercise: The audio will lead you through a series of moves from the beginning of a game. One player will blunder and the other will not punish them for it. Can you find the blunder and the best punishment? To learn more about Don't Move Until You See It and get the free 5-day Conceptualizing Chess Series, head over to https://dontmoveuntilyousee.it/conceptualization PGN for today's exercise: Adapted from the game Jacobson vs Hoenlinger (Teh Hague, 1928). 1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 e6 3. c4 d5 4. Bg5 Be7 5. Nc3 O-O 6. e3 b6 7. Bd3 Bb7 8. O-O Nbd7 9. Rc1 c5 10. Qe2 dxc4 11. Bxc4 Nd5 12. Bxe7 Nxc3 13. Rxc3 Qxe7 14. Bb5 Nf6 15. dxc5 Ne4 16. Rc2 Nxc5 17. b4 Ne4 18. a3 Rac8 19. Rfc1 Rxc2 20. Rxc2 Qf6 21. Nd4 e5 22. Nb3 Ng5 23. Nd2 Qg6 24. e4 Nxe4 25. Bd3 Nc3 26. Qf1 Qh6 27. Qe1 e4 28. Bf1 e3 29. Qxe3 Qxe3 30. fxe3 Rc8 * And the answer is... 26... Ne2+ 27. Bxe2 (27. Kh1 Qxd3) 27... Qxc2

PREVIEW. Supreme Court Hearing on Presidential Tariff Authority. Richard Epstein discusses the Supreme Court oral hearing on the tariffs Mr. Trump imposed, relying on a vague 1977 law concerning emergencies and regulating imports. Epstein predicts a split decision, noting that the president's actions go far beyond accepted practices. The court must interpret the fuzzy line between legitimate legal authority and its abuse.

The Austin auteur talks reuniting with Ethan Hawke for the first time in 10 years and bringing a slice French movie history to life Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Real vs. Fake Apologies: 8 Red FlagsHow do you know if an apology is truly sincere? In this episode, Matt and Erin walk through practical ways to evaluate an apology and respond in a way that protects the relationship and your peace.What you'll learn• The difference between “I'm sorry” and sincere contrition• 8 signs to watch for:      1.Convenient timing (ulterior motives)      2.Vague language (no specific action owned)      3.Defensive tone or anger      4.Over-explaining to self-justify      5.Minimizing your hurt (“it's not a big deal”)      6.Blame-shifting (“sorry you were offended”)      7.Sorry about consequences, not the harm      8.No follow-through—or pressuring you to “get over it”• How temperament and ignorance vs. contrition affect sincerity• Mercy without enabling: requests, boundaries, and next steps• Simple questions that draw out sincerity:   - “What exactly are you sorry for?”   - “How do you wish you'd acted?”   - “What will you do differently next time?”Key idea: Be a model of mercy while staying in your locus of control. You can forgive, ask for clarity, and set timelines for rebuilding trust—without accepting manipulation.Related episode: How to Make a Sincere Apology (pairs perfectly with this one)If this helped, share it with someone who needs a clear, faith-rooted framework for reconciliation.Send us a textSupport the show____________________ ► Make sure to SUBSCRIBE to the Metanoia Catholic YouTube Channel!► Find out your temperament: Take the Free Quiz► Take the Quiz: WHAT TYPE OF COACH ARE YOU?► GET THE DAILY SEVEN JOURNAL!This interactive journal will help you transform your life from the inside out by teaching you how to grow in gratitude, set healthy goals, and gain mastery over your thoughts.► JOIN THE ACADEMY!Your online resource of classes, tools, and community to ramp up your growth and really change your life. Learn from the Metanoia Catholic coaches in webinars, live coaching calls, Lectio Divina, and more with your monthly membership.____________________ ► SUBSCRIBE TO THE CATHOLIC COACHING PODCASTApple PodcastsSpotifyYouTubeAmazon MusicCastboxStitcher____________________ ...

Without vision, you're just reacting.Work pulls you in a dozen directions. Every day, there are fires to fight, decisions to make, and competing demands on your time and attention.And if you don't have a clear vision for your organization AND for your career, you lose perspective. ❌ You end up busy but directionless. ❌ Executing but not building toward anything. ❌ Reacting instead of leading.That's not sustainable.I see this all the time with executives: They're great at execution. But when I ask them, "What's your vision? Where are you taking this organization? Where are you taking your career?"...Vague reply....They've been so focused on the day-to-day that they've lost sight of the destination.

A three-minute rundown of the best (and worst) of this week’s film releases. Airs Saturdays at 8:35am.

durée : 00:15:11 - Journal de 8 h - L'ONG Amnesty dénonce en Tanzanie "des disparitions forcées, des arrestations arbitraires, des actes de torture" alors que les électeurs votent ce mercredi dans le pays pour la présidentielle et les législatives.

durée : 00:15:11 - Journal de 8 h - L'ONG Amnesty dénonce en Tanzanie "des disparitions forcées, des arrestations arbitraires, des actes de torture" alors que les électeurs votent ce mercredi dans le pays pour la présidentielle et les législatives.

This week's episode of Win The Hour, Win The Day Podcast interviews, Louise Gregson-Williams. Are you tired of using big business words that don't really say what you mean? Join us as Louise Gregson-Williams shares her simple way to make your marketing clear and real with her Think • Feel • Do method. In this eye-opening talk, you'll learn:-Why fancy “corporate” words turn people away.-How to use simple, grounded language that connects fast.-What your customers are really thinking, feeling, and doing.-How to make people say, “That's me!” when they read your message.-Why clear words help you stand out and sell more. Get ready to make your marketing sound human again! Don't miss this episode—it will change how you talk about your business forever. Win The Hour, Win The Day! www.winthehourwintheday.com  Podcast: Win The Hour, Win The Day Podcast  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/winthehourwintheday/LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/win-the-hour-win-the-day-podcast You can find Louise Gregson-Williams at:Substack:  https://nosilverbullets.substack.com/LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/louisegregsonwilliams/

With the term "financial advisor" being used so broadly these days, it's harder than ever for retirees and investors to make sense of who's actually guaranteed to act in their best interest. So let's talk about the key responsibilities of fiduciaries, explore the differences between fee-only advisors and those who earn commissions, and go through why full disclosure and ongoing advice matter so much in your financial planning relationship. I share practical tips on how to vet potential advisors, whether you're unhappy with your current one or searching for the right fit for the first time, and discuss online resources designed to help you find an aligned, trustworthy professional. If you want to make sure your advisor is truly putting your interests first, this episode is for you. You will want to hear this episode if you are interested in... [00:00] What is a Fiduciary Advisor? [04:59] Fiduciary duty in financial advice. [10:14] Advisor compensation and fiduciary conflicts. [13:16] Financial advisor versus Fiduciary. [14:41] Choosing your Fiduciary Advisor. [16:22] How to find a potential Fiduciary Advisor. What Is a Fiduciary and Why Should You Care? A fiduciary is someone who is legally and ethically bound to act in your best interest. Professions such as attorneys, executors, and corporate officers have fiduciary obligations, but in wealth management and investing, this distinction is particularly critical. Registered investment advisory firms (RIA) and their representatives are fiduciary advisors, meaning their primary responsibility is you, the client, unlike brokers or insurance agents, whose loyalty is often to their employer. Because anyone can call themselves a "financial advisor," the consumer's challenge is identifying who's truly working for you. How Fiduciary Financial Advisors Serve You 1. Duty of Care A fiduciary advisor must always put your interests first, providing recommendations and advice tailored for your benefit. This doesn't automatically mean recommending the cheapest investment, it means recommending the most appropriate solution, factoring in cost, liquidity, and other key details. If an advisor recommends their own firm's products, this must be clearly disclosed due to the potential conflict of interest. 2. Duty to Seek Best Execution When managing your investments, a fiduciary is responsible for choosing brokers and executing trades with your best interest in mind. It's not just about low commissions; it's about balancing price, research, reliability, and responsiveness. 3. Ongoing Advice and Monitoring A true fiduciary doesn't just sell you a product and disappear. They provide continuous advice, meet with you regularly, ideally at least annually or semi-annually, and adjust your strategy as your life and goals change. If you haven't heard from your advisor in years, they're likely not fulfilling their obligations. 4. Duty of Loyalty Advisors must actively avoid or disclose any conflicts of interest. Vague, general disclosures aren't enough; specifics matter so you can make informed decisions. For example, any financial benefit your advisor receives from recommending a particular fund or insurance policy should be clear and transparent. How Fiduciary Advisors Get Paid and Why It Matters Fiduciary RIAs typically avoid commissions and instead rely on three main payment models: Hourly Fees: You pay for the advisor's time, just as you would an attorney. Flat Fees: One-time fees for specific services, like a comprehensive financial plan. Assets Under Management (AUM): The most common method; you pay a percentage of the assets the advisor manages for you (often around 1% annually). The aim is to remove any incentive for the advisor to recommend products based on compensation rather than your best interest. Financial Advisor vs. Fiduciary: Spotting the Difference Many professionals use the title "financial advisor," whether they are fiduciaries or not. The real question to ask: Are you a fee-only advisor? Fee-only advisors are paid solely by the fees their clients pay, not commissions or kickbacks from financial products. To do your own research, use the online tools I recommend to verify credentials, licenses, and complaint histories. Also think about asking your advisor to sign a fiduciary oath, confirming their commitment to act solely in your interest. A fiduciary promises ongoing advice, transparency, and loyalty, values that matter when your future is at stake. Remember: Ask questions, verify credentials, and always ensure your advisor is truly working in your best interest. Resources Mentioned Retirement Readiness Review Subscribe to the Retire with Ryan YouTube Channel Download my entire book for FREE BrokerCheck IAPD findmyfiduciary.com Fiduciary Oath CFP.net Connect With Morrissey Wealth Management www.MorrisseyWealthManagement.com/contact Subscribe to Retire With Ryan

Most people set goals that sound good but go nowhere. In this episode of The Level Up Podcast w/ Paul Alex, learn why most goals fail—and how to make yours stick for life. Paul breaks down the difference between wishful thinking and execution. From his days in law enforcement to building multiple 7-figure businesses, he shares how success comes from clear systems, not hype. Strong goals aren't loud—they're specific, aligned, and built into your daily rhythm.