Tag Archive: Ernst & Young

Long time no post. I’ll chalk that up to Busy Season at my 9 to 6 (at times quite longer), Mon-Fri (at times Sat and/or Sun).

Still in the throes of BS, I offer some writing I did in response to a running group questionnaire. Answers are truthful and in color.

Hey, Nit,

Thanks for spearheading this. See below, yo.


RUNNERS, please answer the following questions:

  1. Would you consider yourself a beginner, intermediate, or expert level? Beginner with the caveat that I played soccer for 15 years … 15 years ago. So some simple math would reduce me to zilch.
  2. How many times do your currently run per week? Including the weekends? Zero.
  3. What is your average per minute mile on your exercise runs? Pro’ly 10 at this point, inclusive of stopping for breath, donuts, etc.
  4. What are your goals for joining the run group? Cardio, tone legs, something fun and healthy to do with my wife, and make my running shoes stop whining about their “lack of fulfillment.”
  5. Are you training for any upcoming races? Not that I know of, but you never know when gas prices will force me to seek alternative transportation, or when  mugger will provide incentive.
  6. What is/are the best day(s) for you to run with EY Atlanta Run/Walk Group? Weekends, which coincidentally is the best time for Gramma to watch our son while we go running.
  7. Do you prefer to run AM or PM? Provide times (i.e. 6pm, 6:30pm, etc.) Mornings. Do it. Be done with it.

I don’t believe in coincidences.  And that makes life a bit more challenging.

Why’s that?  Well, I believe there’s reason behind everything, so I can’t just dismiss these experiences as chance.  They prompt me to ask myself, “Self, why?”  I tend to end up with a lesson learned more often that a phenomenon explained.

One such experience happened as I looked out from the ninth floor of the Ernst & Young building.  It was a rainy day as I recall.  The floor-to-ceiling window framed much of western Atlanta.  Looking out, I saw visitors entering The World of Coke, and I could make out Coke headquarters to my right.  Further still, the lights above Bobby Dodd Stadium at Georgia Tech loomed unillumined above Grant Field.  The 75/85 confluence moved briskly, albeit almost out of sight, past Allen Plaza.  Atlanta, despite the somber weather, remained active.

And then I looked down.

That’s when I saw the Atlanta Union Mission.  Between the Mission and my building — both physically and metaphorically — was a vacant lot.  Just a few bare trees, discarded boxes, and a small blue tarp scattered across the brown space.   And then the tarp, in the corner of the lot, moved.

It wasn’t blown by wind; there was a man using it for shelter from October rain and wind.  I didn’t actually see the man emerge from his make-shift shelter, but I could tell from the shape and size that it was a person, despite the lack of continued movement.

Standing there, looking down, I realized that I was in the same room in which I had interviewed for my current job.

I saw the differences and the similarities between him and me, and then marveled at the timing of that moment.  Why, in its usual unassuming tone sauntered up behind and presented itself. 

Kansha ~ gratitude

I thought about how fortunate I am that I have what I have — health, family, occupation — and the answer to this coincidence is “give thanks.”  And there’s really so many reasons to do so.

In related news, an old friend started a blog, choosing to focus on gratitude.  What a very fine place to start.

My first day with EY, I fully intended to start this blog. Same holds for the second. And the third. I suppose that’s another good intention of mine turned into a paver on the path south.

Yet, here I am, three weeks into a new role, company, and cube, creating my first entry. 

It’s apparent to me that I’m inculcating myself to my new environ. Willingly. Enthusiastically, even. And it isn’t apparent just inside the office, but outside – right now as I scribe – as well.

Take, for instance, this entry’s spacing. Those who write, edit, or proof understand the importance of details – spacing between sentences being one of them. Before becoming copy editor for the Southeast Sub-Area, I had my style of spacing: two spaces after end punctuation. Mind you, I had my reasons. Namely, I saw it as a manifestation of a communicator’s cardinal rule: remember your audience.

How’s that?

When we read – on screen or on wood-pulp-based medium – our eyes and brain work hard.  Our eyes scan symbols; our brain gives them meaning.  The reader, registering not one but two spaces after a period, has more of a visual break, allowing your brain to register, “Hey, there’s a longer space there than there is between words.  That must mean a new thought is coming.”  And this eases comprehension.  Hopefully, this paragraph’s double-spacing made the sentences easier to digest than the single-spaced paragraphs.

To illustrate the importance of spacing, doyoureyesfindthiseasytoread, or do you prefer this? It’s a matter of making our content easy for our readers.

Alas, the collective EY “we” does not use the double-space. And, insofar as I am an EY employee – more so as an editor – I do not use the double-space. Accordingly, I begin to relax my editorial stance, both inside and outside the firewall.

But long live the serial comma.