Doin’ the freelance dance

Meeting with a local Web shop, then our first client together.  (Going to do copy for their entire Web site.)

Should be a fun afternoon, getting back in the game.


I’m not going to win the writing contest.

My story is crap.  I just submitted it (it’s 3AM Central time), but I have zero confidence in anybody enjoying it.

To be honest, the “topic” was not all that fun or interesting.  Granted, we had carte blanche to turn it into something vastly different, and I kind of did that.  But I had no ending in sight, and tacked one on that I’m sure the judge(s) will dislike.

Maybe I’m being hard on myself.  It’s been a long time since I wrote “just” a short story.  Between my professional writing and blogging, I’ve already got two “other” types of writing going on in my slightly balding cranium.

Oh well, at least there are “door prizes.”  Maybe I’ll win a free “How to E-Publish” kit or something.

Off to bed.

Health update

FYI, and because I say HIPAA be darned…

I’m fine.  I am NOT in the middle of a Crohn’s flare-up.  Since my trip to the E.R., I have been basically problem-free.

Followed up with my G.I. yesterday, and he said that it would be nearly impossible for me to have a flare-up whilst taking the meds that I take.  So much more likely, I had a bad reaction to something I ate or contracted a quickie virus or bug.

So that’s the good news there.

The “R” Word

Just read yet another article about an impending recession.

As someone who’s freelancing because he’s “involuntarily between jobs,” I can tell you that we are smack-dab in the middle of a recession.

My proof is simple: I’m not the only one hurting.  There are plenty of us.

You start to figure out that there is a big problem when you contact people, hoping to get some freelance work or a networking contact out of them, and they tell you that they too have been laid off.

I’m not going to get all political here, but I think most of us will agree that the blame belongs a lot of places: federal, state and city administrations, mortgage companies that ran wild in the earlier part of the decade, and just as importantly, all of us consumers.

Consumers are the ones who spent way beyond their means, buying McMansions and cars and stuff they couldn’t afford.  And the lenders said, hey, you got credit of any kind, we’ll work with you.  (Having heard first-hand from Shannon what the insanely unethical mortgage lenders were doing–and she refused to do when she worked with them–made me sick.)

I think a lot of us keep hoping that someone or something will bail us out of this situation.  Many people probably believe that the next leader of this country will “make it all right” somehow.  Or that Gen Y (or Tweeners or one of those mini-generations after us X-ers) will spark their version of the dot-com boom.

Frankly, everybody just needs to go on a budget.  Yikes, does this mean I’m a fiscal conservative?

Ever go to a real E.R.?

I’ve been to several over the past few years, but today was a unique experience.

I woke up this morning at 4AM with, well, let’s just say pretty severe gastrointestinal distress.  Living with Crohn’s disease, I assumed it was either a delayed reaction to Remicade, a flare-up/relapse, or something I ate last night.

Called the Remicade infusion nurse, and she confirmed my theory that four years of side-effect-free infusions made it very unlikely that my problem was related to the medication.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get much better as the day went on.  Shannon came home from work to take care of me, and when I still showed no improvement by early evening, she took me to the E.R. at Presbyterian of Plano.

The E.R. at 5:15 p.m. was empty except for one elderly lady who was already filling out her forms.  I quickly completed my own forms, and was actually called to see the Triage nurse while I was in the men’s room.  (That’s an amazingly quick waiting period, for those of you who have dealt with emergency rooms.)

I was almost immediately met by a male nurse/EMT who put in an I.V.  Soon after that, I was greeted by the ER doc and a nurse who took all my info.  Based on the doc’s diagnosis–a mild flare-up–I was given morphine (woo hoo), something to settle my stomach and some fluids to rehydrate me.

After a while, the cramping and discomfort subsided, and Shannon even noted the color had returned to my face.  The doc came around again and discharged me around 7:45.

Not feeling 100% yet, but definitely a whole lot better.

In the heart of the Beast

On my way back from my Remicade infusion this morning, I had to stop by Blue Star Imaging in Irving to pick up some X-rays for Shannon.

But Blue Star Imaging is located in Valley Ranch, an exclusive section of Irving which is where the Dallas Cowboys’ training facility spews its demonic evil.  (Yeah, it’s redundant, but so is Evil.)

So I actually had to enter the facility (the security guard was nice, but clearly a scion of Satan in disguise) and park in the visitors’ lot to get the films.

Of note: parked illegally in the circular driveway was a black convertible Corvette with the license plate “SACKED.”

I had to take four showers when I got home.