I'm going to take a quick break from my "Let's Unite, Not Divide" self and refer to this recent study on Mac v. PC users: "Research from internet ad network Mindset Media confirms the ad's personification of Mac users as "superior and self-satisfied."
Quote: ""This group has a sense of self-importance and tends to consider themselves extraordinary," says Sarah Welch, COO and co-founder of Mindset Media, adding that, since this group is so assured of its superiority, "I can see how [the guy in the commercial] isn't offensive to them.""
Shocking. No. Really.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Social. Security.
I'm mostly recovered from my recent bout with death. A lingering cough remains but, for the most part I'm back on my feet. It's well past noon and I've only had one Ricola today.
It's a slow day here at Chez Copywriting. It's a slow time in general. Everyone - my boss, my coworkers, my buddies - tell me that this is to be expected. January and February are ALWAYS slow, they say.
It's just a little unnerving, what with this big recession thing and all.
I keep telling myself that The Universe would not have plopped me down in the perfect apartment in the perfect town with a perfect job, enticing me to set down roots, only to bankrupt me six months later. But still.....
I have a meeting tomorrow w/ a guy about a freelance gig which, if done correctly, could net me an extra $2-3K. Also, there's a long term option to help out with another freelance project for a former Napoleanic sufferer. Which could add to the pocket change. Plus there's the hefty tax return I got this year. I love filing early!
So, all in all, I should be feeling good. But I'm still kind of freaking out. So much so, I'm going on an interview for a waitressing gig. A local restaurateur team is hiring for both a Gloucester location (home) and a Beverly location (work).
While I don't necessarily love the idea of working two jobs again, I do have to admit that I love the food biz. The lingo, the comaraderie, the zenness of it all. You meet really interesting people - both coworkers and patrons. And you develop an intimacy with those co-workers that crosses age, gender, lifestyle, class, pretty much everything. Which wouldn't suck for this NewInTownie. And it would make me feel like I had extra money. So it would offer a social outlet and some financial security.
But, then again, it would be dashing from one gig to another, getting home late, smelling like fried foods or seafoods or various flavors of alcohol (spilled not consumed).
I've found a blog called Waiter Rant that really summarizes the whole lifestyle very well. I especially liked this post.
I am keeping an open mind about the whole thing until at least after the lunchtime interview. At least I have plenty to obsess about during all my down time. How awful would it be to not be this neurotic and to be this bored?
It's a slow day here at Chez Copywriting. It's a slow time in general. Everyone - my boss, my coworkers, my buddies - tell me that this is to be expected. January and February are ALWAYS slow, they say.
It's just a little unnerving, what with this big recession thing and all.
I keep telling myself that The Universe would not have plopped me down in the perfect apartment in the perfect town with a perfect job, enticing me to set down roots, only to bankrupt me six months later. But still.....
I have a meeting tomorrow w/ a guy about a freelance gig which, if done correctly, could net me an extra $2-3K. Also, there's a long term option to help out with another freelance project for a former Napoleanic sufferer. Which could add to the pocket change. Plus there's the hefty tax return I got this year. I love filing early!
So, all in all, I should be feeling good. But I'm still kind of freaking out. So much so, I'm going on an interview for a waitressing gig. A local restaurateur team is hiring for both a Gloucester location (home) and a Beverly location (work).
While I don't necessarily love the idea of working two jobs again, I do have to admit that I love the food biz. The lingo, the comaraderie, the zenness of it all. You meet really interesting people - both coworkers and patrons. And you develop an intimacy with those co-workers that crosses age, gender, lifestyle, class, pretty much everything. Which wouldn't suck for this NewInTownie. And it would make me feel like I had extra money. So it would offer a social outlet and some financial security.
But, then again, it would be dashing from one gig to another, getting home late, smelling like fried foods or seafoods or various flavors of alcohol (spilled not consumed).
I've found a blog called Waiter Rant that really summarizes the whole lifestyle very well. I especially liked this post.
I am keeping an open mind about the whole thing until at least after the lunchtime interview. At least I have plenty to obsess about during all my down time. How awful would it be to not be this neurotic and to be this bored?
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
More From Losers Club Gets the Flu
I've always avoided flu shots. The idea of injecting myself with something to ward off the chance that I might develop an illness down the line has always bothered me. No more.
I came down with the real symptoms Tuesday night. Wednesday I lost to sleep. Thursday I made it into work, only to leave early, go home and crash completely. Friday I was on the mend. HA!
Saturday, I went to the ER after waking up with the tell-tale eye goop of conjunctivitus. (Yes, thank you, I realize it's a disease usually reserved for kindgartners.) After consulting with a lovely woman at my insurance's 24/7 Nurse Help Line, who informed me I really shouldn't wait to get the eye checked out and, oh by the way, get that chest looked at too, you sound awful, I headed for the ER to pick up some antibiotic drops.
Revolving door care at it's best, I was in, triaged, looked at, given an Rx, and closed out all within 20 minutes. Except I couldn't leave. The hospital was on lockdown. Yes, that's right. Lockdown. I have no idea why - maybe there was a murderer on the loose. Maybe an abusive husband with a restraining order against him. Maybe aliens with the ability to impregnate unsuspecting humans. No reason was given. I just couldn't leave.
I was FINALLY released and went home to fill the prescription, which I promptly went home and used. WHICH MADE MY EYE WORSE. Great.
Monday, I went to the real doctor to get a friggin diagnosis since I still felt like death, was wrapped in a cocoon of misery, and hadn't been able to sleep due to the hacking cough that wracked my body every ten minutes. She declared: bronchitus. And gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and a cough syrup. Which turned out to be a suppressant and an expectorant.
If you don't understand that, think about it this way. It's like a cough speedball. Part of it makes you up, part of it makes you down. So my body wanted to cough, but my body didn't want to let itself cough. So, I wound up spending the night drowning on my own breath. FUN!
Last night, I went BACK to CVS (where, btw, they are completely unable to fill my prescription without playing phonetag for 20 minutes with my insurance). I was told the new cough syrup would cost me $55. Yep, $55. I was also told that, basically, this new cough syrup was liquid vicodin.
Really? Tell me more.
I took my dosage at 8:45. By 9:15 I was having really enjoyable pre-dream visions. By 9:30, I was completely unconscious.
I slept until 7 a.m. I got up, took a shower, and fell asleep for 20 more minutes.
So, this a.m. I feel LOTS better. I'm not sure if it's because I'm still in a vicodin-induced haze or if its because I actually slept the whole night through. Or maybe it's because the throbbing from my ears, cheeks, forehead and nose is finally gone. Whatever the reason, I hope it lasts.
And next year? Getting a flu shot!
I came down with the real symptoms Tuesday night. Wednesday I lost to sleep. Thursday I made it into work, only to leave early, go home and crash completely. Friday I was on the mend. HA!
Saturday, I went to the ER after waking up with the tell-tale eye goop of conjunctivitus. (Yes, thank you, I realize it's a disease usually reserved for kindgartners.) After consulting with a lovely woman at my insurance's 24/7 Nurse Help Line, who informed me I really shouldn't wait to get the eye checked out and, oh by the way, get that chest looked at too, you sound awful, I headed for the ER to pick up some antibiotic drops.
Revolving door care at it's best, I was in, triaged, looked at, given an Rx, and closed out all within 20 minutes. Except I couldn't leave. The hospital was on lockdown. Yes, that's right. Lockdown. I have no idea why - maybe there was a murderer on the loose. Maybe an abusive husband with a restraining order against him. Maybe aliens with the ability to impregnate unsuspecting humans. No reason was given. I just couldn't leave.
I was FINALLY released and went home to fill the prescription, which I promptly went home and used. WHICH MADE MY EYE WORSE. Great.
Monday, I went to the real doctor to get a friggin diagnosis since I still felt like death, was wrapped in a cocoon of misery, and hadn't been able to sleep due to the hacking cough that wracked my body every ten minutes. She declared: bronchitus. And gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and a cough syrup. Which turned out to be a suppressant and an expectorant.
If you don't understand that, think about it this way. It's like a cough speedball. Part of it makes you up, part of it makes you down. So my body wanted to cough, but my body didn't want to let itself cough. So, I wound up spending the night drowning on my own breath. FUN!
Last night, I went BACK to CVS (where, btw, they are completely unable to fill my prescription without playing phonetag for 20 minutes with my insurance). I was told the new cough syrup would cost me $55. Yep, $55. I was also told that, basically, this new cough syrup was liquid vicodin.
Really? Tell me more.
I took my dosage at 8:45. By 9:15 I was having really enjoyable pre-dream visions. By 9:30, I was completely unconscious.
I slept until 7 a.m. I got up, took a shower, and fell asleep for 20 more minutes.
So, this a.m. I feel LOTS better. I'm not sure if it's because I'm still in a vicodin-induced haze or if its because I actually slept the whole night through. Or maybe it's because the throbbing from my ears, cheeks, forehead and nose is finally gone. Whatever the reason, I hope it lasts.
And next year? Getting a flu shot!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Losers Club Goes to the PBR Update
Update. I spoke too soon. I brung it upon myself.
I cackled to Best Friend today about how the PBR went relatively incident-free. I mean, the few things that did happen were so minor, they weren't even worth mentioning, much less worthy of a Losers' Club Story.
Then, last night, Dad got sick.
Then this morning, Kalesy got sick.
This evening, Mom got sick.
I've consumed more Odwalla Super C Monster than can possibly be healthy. I've had lots of homeopathic stuff. I've sucked down lots of echinacea. I still hurt, ache, hotcold, and throb.
So much for that date.
I cackled to Best Friend today about how the PBR went relatively incident-free. I mean, the few things that did happen were so minor, they weren't even worth mentioning, much less worthy of a Losers' Club Story.
Then, last night, Dad got sick.
Then this morning, Kalesy got sick.
This evening, Mom got sick.
I've consumed more Odwalla Super C Monster than can possibly be healthy. I've had lots of homeopathic stuff. I've sucked down lots of echinacea. I still hurt, ache, hotcold, and throb.
So much for that date.
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