I think I’m dead.

Deep-sixed by a Little Bitch called Business Math in all its unit contribution margin glory, my last words being, ”THIS!! THIS IS WHY I NEVER WANTED TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL!!” I should’ve known it would be the math. I’ve never trusted anything that has ONLY ONE correct answer. Just one. Nothing rings more false to me.*

And when I’m trying to figure out what in the hell is happening in a discounted cash flow, I am deprived of my strict, life-sustaining regimen of teen fiction, girl pop, blog writing, beautiful blue eyes and everything else that keeps me putting one wedge heel in front of the other. And every time I face yet another sum-of-years depreciation, I can already imagine the obituary of the girl with 6/39th of a Master’s Degree.

WAIT A MINUTE. To allow this Little Bitch to kill me? Hell, No. NOT the only answer.

I am not dead. Because right before Strategic Advertising Management and its evil Little Bitch partner Business Math muscled their way in, something happened. I began to breathe again. That’s what happens when you think you’ve finally found the work** that you never even knew you wanted, but for which you know you’ve lived your entire life to do. Where the concepts resonate with everything you’ve always thought and felt and you feel like you’re coming home. Little Bitch has nothing on that.

But more importantly, in the case that creative advertising doesn’t end up being home after all, at least I know that Little Bitch can never take away the blog writing. This I know because the only way that will end is in the event that I really am dead. And look at me now - writing for the blog. Not dead yet. But when I am, it WILL NOT be because of Business Math.

You can go ahead and tell that to the coroner.

*Ok, Ok, I’ll admit it. Nothing rings more false to me except, that is, when it comes to spelling, dangling prepositions in writing (even though I strongly believe that every other grammar rule in the book SHOULD BE BROKEN) and the correct usage of words. I have been known to come out of a sales meeting muttering, “FOR WHICH we are shooting. FOR WHICH, FOR WHICH.” and remembering nothing except that the written agenda had 2 misspelled words, a dangling preposition and that someone described a coincidence and called it "irony."

**Creative advertising