Five hours from now, an investor, an architect, a broker and a contractor will converge on our prospective new site and give us the rundown on it. Three hours from now I'm meeting a buddy for lunch at one of my favorite restaurants in LA, probably for the last time in nearly a year. Two hours from now I'm depositing a (very large) check so that I can send an (identically large) check to TD Ameritrade, pulling some of my money out of my "safe" indexed annuity and putting it somewhere I can actually get to it. I started fake trading 48 hours ago and I'm up $541 whole dollars. That's because of an option I bought. I have no idea what I'm doing beyond that and the option expires in ten days. I'm super-glad it's fake money. Five weeks from now I'll be a thousand miles from here, my daughter's first roadtrip behind her, five thousand dollars worth of moving expense putting me, tactically, exactly where I was this time in 2008. I see billboards. They're for movies my friends have written. There are no billboards for me. I read news articles. They're for movies my high school classmates have written. There are no news articles for me. All my mixing colleagues are scrambling for work. Two of them are on a new show that sounds pretty horrible that I'd totally work on except I'm throwing in the towel. I'm awaiting an invoice on a post project. It's the last invoice I'll have down here, where invoices are a regular, common event. Capitulation is fucking depressing.
Dude, if you want a news article of your own you should try putting some feelers out, get the story about the birthing clinic to press when the business opens etc. I'm pretty sure you could garner some interest, and definitely could play off a human interest "Who is behind the hot new place for mums-to-be?" stuff. I don't know, I'd totally buy a newspaper/magazine to read about a prominent Hubskier.