Karen Murar, my 11th grade English teacher and literary magazine advisor, told… no, warned me that teaching was a creative act, and so would take away from my poetry. Said another way, she warned that one has a finite amount of creative energy, and when it’s used up for the day, oh well—regardless of what it was burned on.
Turns out that any writing also counts that way. Including the manufacture of training presentation decks.
I think I’m caught up there. Maybe I can get back to this blogging stuff now!
Oh, wait. I still haven’t assembled a shippable SFD. Guess that’s next!