Hope Springs Eternal

This week can suck it.  It was harder than it should have been.  Little Friday was elusive, and only Smitty remembered.  And,  my celebration of the holiday was super weak.  I gave in to my baser nature (complaining, angry-ing, mean-ing) when I should have taken a yoga breath and moved on to celebrate the glory that is Little Friday.

That said, some good shizz happened, too.  I had the greatest client ever when I was freelancing way back in 2005.  We remain connected today — he’s one of the only clients I’ve ever had who actively encouraged the team to call bullshizz on his bullshizz, if you will.  It’s been years since I’ve worked with him proper, but we still talk at least once a week, bouncing ideas off of each other, squeeing over The Walking Dead, or just holding each other up.

So, get this — out of the blue, he invited me to the corporate box for the Final Four NCAA Tournament, which was nice, but I got a dog and no money, so how am I gonna’ get there?  Well, here’s how — me…AND RUSSELL JENKINS!!!!!…  are going to be picked up in the company plane and go to the Georgia Dome!  Russell is going to be so happy.  I haven’t plucked him up from his stint at BarkBark Club yet, but when I do tomorrow, and when I tell him about the pigs in blankets awaiting him in Atlanta … oh, you don’t even know.

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