I got a late start this morning--at least on the blog--for a couple of reasons.
First, I had a 7:30 conference call. That seems like something you'd have if you worked for the East German government before the collapse of the Communist Bloc. But it's how things go in advertising these days.
Not only share work in the least effective way imaginable, we do it at an hour when most self-respecting creatives are not even close to their first cup of hand-picked, sustainably-grown, cold-poured cup of seven dollar coffee.
Then, while on the call, I had an eye doctor's appointment. Since my near-death car crash almost three years ago put me on almost a year of steroid treatment to combat a nasty run-in with pericarditis, the eye doctor has been watching some slight abnormalities in my corneas. Accordingly, I have to see him and his bevy of fetching eye-dropping assistants every six months.
Right now, I can barely see what I'm typing--the effects of dilating drops.
It's been a long week but I can sense its end like a champion Kenyan long-distance runner can smell the finish of a marathon. Like that runner, the end of this week can't come soon enough. It's been a week dominated by an offsite and the concomitant over-eating, over-drinking and worst: over-talking.
Yesterday, starting around 9AM and ending around noon, I sat through 17-hours of pedagogy on the transformational importance of "design thinking."
I couldn't help but think of a quip by either Alexander Woolcott or Monty Wooley, I can't remember which. "My foot's asleep, do you mind if I join it?"
I guess that's all for now.
I'm two hours late.
And I can't actually see what I'm typing.
Would that I could join my foot.