On the Take

“Thank you for doing such a fabulous job on the article,” the handwritten note read. “Everyone who has read it loved it. I can’t thank you enough for making me look so good.”

The note arrived in the mail this morning, along with a Macy’s gift card. At last I was on the take! True, it was plastic money, but it was money nonetheless.

The woman who sent the gift card is a professional home stager I’d interviewed for an article about how to decorate your for-sale home to increase the likelihood that it will sell and sell quick. (Hint: Get rid of the gun collection and litter box, and paint the front door.)

Although, as a freelance journalist, I would never accept a gift that could in any way be considered a bribe, this doesn’t stop appreciative interviewees, clients, editors and publishers from sending me small thank-you gifts after the fact.

Over the years, I’ve received everything from fancy greeting cards and magnetic calendars to bottles of wine, plant fertilizer, slug bait, pizza, loose-leaf organic tea, bicycle-trail maps, movie passes, theater tickets, books, photographs, coffee mugs, music CDs and even dryer balls (non-toxic, allergy-free, plastic balls you throw into your clothes dryer instead of that old tennis shoe).

What do I do with all this free stuff?

Well, store it in the free tote bags, of course. In fact, right now, I can count no less than three gift tote bags in my office — a colorful one from a business organization, a zippered one from a political-action group, and a cloth one from a company that makes a highly-effective, fast-acting, environmentally friendly liquid formula that kills moss and algae on roofs and walks.

Kindle Caution

A few minutes ago, while using my Kindle (the new marketing tool from amazon.com that also works as a kind of iPod for readers), I accidentally ordered a copy of Cheryl Richardson’s self-help book Stand Up for Your Life: Develop the Courage, Confidence and Character to Fulfill Your Greatest Potential.

I didn’t mean to order the book, but while reading a free, downloaded sample of it, I accidentally pushed the “Buy Now” button and, seconds later, became the surprised owner of the full version.

While reading the Kindle version of Richardson’s book, I followed a link to her Web site and discovered that a Richardson study group meets regularly just a few blocks from my house. The whole experience felt a little weird, though. With the Kindle, reading (what for me had always been a pleasantly private and personal experience) suddenly became interactive. It felt like someone had punched a hole in my universe.

Later, on my desktop, I emailed the contact person for the Richardson study group and made arrangements to attend the next meeting, which might not be a bad idea considering the fact that, for just a split second after accidentally ordering Richardson’s book, I considered contacting Kindle and cancelling my order but then decided against it. What are the chances they will believe me, I thought, proving it’s time I learned to stand up for my life.

Morning Pages

It’s 5:30 a.m. and I’m already writing. I like to get up early, before the world starts crashing in. I make a point to rise before my responsibilities, before I have to do anything.

I enjoy this time of the day when I’m not beholden to anyone because it’s then that I can just be me and write for the fun of it, write down whatever comes into my head. Free-association writing, morning pages, whatever you want to call it.

In some ways, I feel like I’m writing before I’m fully awake and, as a result, am able to tap into thoughts and feelings I might otherwise not have.

It’s at this time of day that I feel most like myself. My mind is clear, and I haven’t had to use keys or money, haven’t had to drive a car or talk.