I’m late to the party yet again. I get it. And the sad part? I do not look nearly as spectacular as Johnny Depp. (I’m even late to realize I’ve used an incorrect analogy – It wasn’t the Mad Hatter who was late, it was the rabbit. Oh well.) This week, I’ve been late to The Eels Party, Late to Sarah B., and I discover I’m late to Derek Sivers as well. Frankly, if I hadn’t had a hysterectomy last year – I’d be crying in my eggnog right now.