Tuesday, probably
On the fitted sheet, and other unwinnable wars
A client asked me to fold her fitted sheet "properly." I asked what properly meant. She said "like in the shop." I explained that in the shop it is folded around a piece of cardboard by a machine that has never known love. She said that's fine, do that. I have been building the machine for three weeks. It has learned to fold a pillowcase. I'm told this is how all great empires begin.
A Thursday in a long month
A taxonomy of lost things
After years in the field I can report that lost things fall into three families. The Wanderers (socks, pens, the remote), which leave on their own. The Hiders (keys, glasses, the passport), which are always in the last place you look because you stop looking. And the Departed (the end of the tape, the name of that actor, your train of thought), which were never truly ours. I charge double for the Departed.
The morning after the group chat
How I got eleven people to agree on a restaurant
I didn't. I picked one, booked it, and told everyone it was someone else's idea. Every one of them believed it was their own. Dinner was lovely. Two people thanked each other. Factotum work is mostly logistics and a little bit of harmless fraud.