This Post Is About The Post

The Quinn family paper of record is the NY Post. Trashy, entertaining and somewhat accurate. I consider it a challenge to find the Where's Waldo of mistakes. They once listed the Declaration of Independence as being written in 1778. Close, but no cigar. I just read it for the gist.

Except for the horoscope. Sally Brompton has got a read on me like no other because the Taurus horoscope always resonates with what is going on in my life.

Take this one: "Is money really so important? Could you survive on less? These are the kind of questions you will be asking today, but deep down you know the answers. It's not about money, it's about passion -- and you've got plenty."

This was on the day that I was debating whether to roll with the freelance gig.

The day after I accepted the freelance gig, the Post told me this: "The facts may point you in one direction but your instincts are telling you a very different story. You know from long experience how painful it can be when you ignore your inner voice, so don't ignore it today."

Well, the freelance gig is accomplishing one thing, and one thing only: financial gain. I ignored my instinct and I am being proven right. Because it feels so wrong. I am no longer the good advertising client services soldier. I've seen the light.

But I am buoying myself with the notion that it is short-term. I've always been Machiavellian--the end justifies the means.

But I will fight to live my life as with the funemployment joie de vivre. Until I am free to be funemployed again. Stay tuned because the saga continues!

Patience Patients

Absurdity is drawn to me like Courtney Love to a pharmacy. Take my experience with Dr. Jacques, the chiropractor.


Since I'm paying for COBRA (thank you Obama subsidy!) I figured I'd get some doctor's appointments out of the way. Neurologist for migraines that I've had since I was 3? Check. Physical therapist, Unfortunately yes. Acupuncture? Check. Dr. Jacques? Oh. My. God.


The net-net, my neurologist thinks some of my migraines are attributed to neck tightness and strain. Physical therapy was recommended but the therapist screwed up my neck. To fix chronic pain that I've had for a few months, I went to acupuncture and eventually ended up going to Dr. Jacques.


A mini French man with a yarmulke, Dr. Jacques immediately told me that I'm tense. Stressed. My chi is blocked. He told me to take 10 deep breaths a day. To meditate. To get a mini trampouline and jump on it for 4 minutes a day. In my apartment. Wait, what?


Then he twisted, stretched and adjusted me. He showed me an exercise which entails gripping a door threshold and stretching my chest through. But to illustrate it properly, he had to open his jacket exposing his chest hair?!? With stereotypical French flair, he did the exercise and proclaimed, "Voila." I wondered, French or hitting on me?


For 2 hours, I'm certain my face had a pained look of uncertainty. But I have to say, for 4 days I have had the least pain that I've had for quite a long time. A little patience, a lot of absurdity and chest hair could just be the recipe for success. Developing...

LANCED

Ring! Ring! I look at my cell phone and I vaguely recognize the phone number. I usually never answer if it isn't from a friend, but I figured it may be my doctor's office confirming an appointment.

Nope. It's an HR person from an agency that I interviewed with last summer. And last fall. I basically interviewed with 12 people for 2 different positions and then heard nothing. Until now.

They want me to consider a freelance client services assignment while a woman is on maternity leave. It would be a 4-month assignment. 4 months of direct mail. 4 months of managing a team. 4 months of working with clients. 4 months of everything I thought that I'd left behind. And 4 months of really good money.

So, do I take the money and run?