Big things. Little things.

I was up early this morning. Not as early as yesterday when I was up at 4. But early nonetheless.

My wife had scheduled an appointment up in Harlem for us to look at some new hardwood floors we're hoping to have installed in our apartment. After living in the place for 16 years, we're finally getting around to renovating it.

Renovation is a time when things that should be unimportant in the greater scheme of life become pressing. You find yourself perseverating over tiles. You engage in deep conversations about a drawer that holds a microwave and pops out with the push of a button. You have Talmudic debates over the virtues of maple as opposed to oak.

I'm sure all of this will be worth it when our apartment is a showpiece out of "Architectural Digest," or at least "Metropolitan Home." But for the time being I feel like a bleeding man discussing the efficacy of various tourniquets. Just do the fucking job the best way you know how.

I suppose a lot of advertising life is like renovating an apartment or home.

You're told to do a lot of things that are really minor and somewhat excruciating. I remember once working with a vaunted designer on an ad. I showed him the headline I had written and he asked me to re-write it without descenders. That is without q's, y's, p's, g's and j's. It's not that it was that hard to do, it's just...why?

It seems to me that most advertising these days is more about decorative flourishes than foundational strength. I guess that's the world we live in, too.

Little things mean a lot.

Big things mean fuck all.

That's all for now.