Nee, ik ben niet ziek!

Yet again, I must learn my lesson the hard way, don't I?  Did I not already learn before that too much fun can be bad?  

I don't think it was the beer but all those cigarettes.  I don't believe I've ever smoked that much in my life!

L nor I did not have a lighter.  So at each light, we had to beckon the waiter.  Of course, I felt like Bette Davis as someone else lit my cigarette.  But then, we had to light the next cancer stick with the last one, making us chain smokers, at least for the night.

There must be a ratio that says something like one's resistance is lowered by x percent at each cigarette, no?  Unfortunately, I do not have such a number handy.  But I tell you what ... I feel the effects.  Tsk, tsk, tsk.  

Smoking does NOTHING good for you.  Nope, nope, and NOPE.  But why do I do it?  Tsk.

+ + +

In other news, hooray for small victories.

My "favorite" real estate client was/is in crisis.  Flooding woes and such.  

This is perhaps the 3rd or 4th time I have prepared a crisis document for them.  But last time, they really screwed me over.  They are in the habit of being uber demanding, asking me to rush things.  Sure, it's a crisis after all.  But at the last minute, they decide to do away with my drafts and go with their sucky and barely comprehensible press statements.

Today, I stood my ground.  I forwarded them strong recommendations.  And I also pushed my Account Manager to push my draft to "favorite client."  We had made several revisions of their crappy statement and Account Manager read it to them over the phone.  But at my urging, Account Manager read them my version as well -- with points from their crappy one "assimilated" into good, clear prose.  

I won.

Man.  I had to fight for it.  And it feels good.  I am a pusher!

If only my nose and throat were not so sore from sneezing and wheezing, respectively.