It's Thursday, so "Business Hours are over, baby"

If you don't know what the title of this post means, please scroll down to the previous post from Sunday, and watch the Youtube video at the end called Business Time.

Hope everyone had their business socks on last night. I had plans to do the same but as I am posting this from the MacSpecialists store (emphasis on the Special) this morning, plans change. Instead, I was in a fiery rage last night, and that was the only "business" at hand.

I am almost finished designing my sister's fantastic children's book on pet loss. Before sending it to the printer, I had to upgrade my software to Adobe Creative Suites 3. Today, almost a week after spending just over "one-large" on CS3, I took my iMac in to double the RAM, a necessary evil because CS3 wasn't having the RAM I was running on. I had to wait a week to max out the RAM on my computer because I had to sell my ovaries to pay for everything and have you ever tried to heal properly after having your ovaries removed and sold on the black market? It takes longer to recover from the trauma than you'd think.

I brought it home last night after the upgrade and was ready to get down to "business" but the machine only spit out an insulting 3 beeps, and didn't bother to actually go through the usual start-up process, nor did the monitor come on. Only the fan, and those 3 beeps. I called MacSpecialists (for the record, they're usually modern day miracle-makers) and the sales guy said since it was 7:10 pm, the techs had all left already (presumably they had their "business socks" on and had people to get home to) but I could bring it back in the morning; which brings us to now.

I'm currently "banging the keyboard" (is it too early in the day for double-entendres?) on the sexiest MacBook Pro I've ever seen. This baby is smooth, and slick, and titanium and FAST (in a good way). Too bad it has to stay in the showroom. I'm a non-smoker but may just have to light one up on the way out of here anyway. I think they hand them out at the door with iMatches.

Luckily for you, I've decided to skip over all the ugliness that went on in between my phone call to MacSpecialists last night and the "morning delight" I'm experiencing right now. Poor Charissa called in the middle of my rage to discuss an episode of Sex & the City that she had just seen on DVD, the one where Smith shaves his head in solidarity with Samantha's chemotherapy-induced hair loss; probably the hottest move on earth, a man standing by his woman so steadfastly--is that even a word?--that he knows his actions will speak louder than anything he could ever say in that entirely (for her) vulnerable moment; and I couldn't even enjoy talking about it over the phone with her. A fiery rage will do that to you. Imagine, not even being able to get into a discussion on the hotness of Sex & the City's Smith Jerrod!?

Since I couldn't find that scene online anywhere, I give you the following ridiculous commercial someone in the UK was kind enough to upload to YouTube.

I don't know about you, but all I hear is what sounds like the adults in every Charlie Brown movie saying, "Waah wah waah body temperature waah waah starts to melt... uncontrollably waah wahh waah even faster in your mouth wah waaah and that, ladies, makes the pleasure even more intense." This commercial should be for a product called, 'AMEN', or 'BREAK ME OFF SOME OF THAT', don't you think?


So, the work on the book will continue a few days longer than I had anticipated, which is utterly frustrating at the end of such a long-term project. Good thing my sister has been so great about it. I hasten to say most clients would not handle it with as much grace and patience as she has. She always takes lemons & makes lemonade. For instance, last night after finding out that I'd have to take my computer back in-- pushing the book deadline back a few days-- I called to ask her if she had the number for Suicide Hotline. She didn't have the number but said that if I actually went through with it, she'd have a great subject for her next book.

Humor, people. It's in our DNA. Genetically, we CAN'T HELP IT.


It should go without saying that suicide is not funny at all.