A long time ago, my grandmother told me that I’d have to choose: I could either be sweet and well-liked (and make do with whatever the world decided to hand to me) or I could be aggressive, go after what I want, and be considered a bitch.

I didn’t believe her.

But she was right.

I had a pretty stark reminder of this at work some time ago. We were down a person, and the projects were piling up. One that was in pretty bad shape landed on my desk, and I threw myself into it 110 percent. Read the rest of this entry »