Snuggle away
I am in my bed wrapped in my comforter with a belly full of Entenman cookies and soy milk. It is a wonderful remedy for the shots of tequila I did in the office that I did about 5 hours ago.
"Do we have any 7UP? I want to do slammers!" yelled out Salad Dancer.
It was around 8 that we finished our reports on the media coverage of the finance industry. When the market took a dive, everything went haywire. We were just putting the Oscar reports to bed when all of a sudden we were sitting in front of CNBC and learning terms like short trades, shares, sub prime and hedgefunds. Stuff that you hear at a Wharton alumni dinner.
A very big client that specialized in peddling information to suck...I mean inexperienced investors. They wanted a better feel for the way the media was presenting this whole stock market party so they could better tailor their products.
Our finance group had been disbanded and G was outsourcing the finance projects to some contractors. The contractors wanted nothing to do with this since they had their hands full already. I also suspect that they probably felt it was beneath them so it landed on our prestigious laps.
My group nearly had a mental break down when we were thrown this finance project. None of us have a finance background. The Crow started screaming about how she could barley balance her check book. Salad Dancer demanded that she call her accountant because there was no way in hell she could pull this off. Rantman was just being rantman. He went on about how the whole market was a rigged casino.
As for myself, I was just busy trying to remember algebra which I took when I was in high school.
Then the Queen told us to shut out collective traps and informed us that there would be no number crunching involved. All we had to do was to analyze the media coverage of what was going on in the market.
After everyone got changed into some dry underwear, we all went to work. Considering what was going on, alot of the coverage was surprisingly positive. I am not just talking about the newscasters trying to spin it around but also their clothes. I did not see anything that seem to denote funeral colors.
Overall it was a very easy assignment because all we were doing was analyzing their coverage in terms of their raction to the market. It was pertty straight forward. But it was so f**king mind numbing. At one point Salad Dancer wanted to roll in a tv with the Spice channel on just to make things more interesting. I ralize now why investment bankers and wall street types blow their money on luxury items. They need to do stuff that doesn't remind them of where they work.
We finally put our phone book together and that point it was 8. Rantman left to go see 300, while Salad Dancer, The Crow and the Queen were trying to figure out their plans for the evening. They decided the best way to inspired for a night on the town was a pre-game warmup of Tequila.
We didn't have 7Up but we did have a couple of cans of Cherry coke. That really hit the stop. After our 3rd shot, the girls decided to hit the east village. I just wanted to go home. Besides, the BS would be coming in town this weekend.
I am not thinking about anything else. I just want to sleep.
"Do we have any 7UP? I want to do slammers!" yelled out Salad Dancer.
It was around 8 that we finished our reports on the media coverage of the finance industry. When the market took a dive, everything went haywire. We were just putting the Oscar reports to bed when all of a sudden we were sitting in front of CNBC and learning terms like short trades, shares, sub prime and hedgefunds. Stuff that you hear at a Wharton alumni dinner.
A very big client that specialized in peddling information to suck...I mean inexperienced investors. They wanted a better feel for the way the media was presenting this whole stock market party so they could better tailor their products.
Our finance group had been disbanded and G was outsourcing the finance projects to some contractors. The contractors wanted nothing to do with this since they had their hands full already. I also suspect that they probably felt it was beneath them so it landed on our prestigious laps.
My group nearly had a mental break down when we were thrown this finance project. None of us have a finance background. The Crow started screaming about how she could barley balance her check book. Salad Dancer demanded that she call her accountant because there was no way in hell she could pull this off. Rantman was just being rantman. He went on about how the whole market was a rigged casino.
As for myself, I was just busy trying to remember algebra which I took when I was in high school.
Then the Queen told us to shut out collective traps and informed us that there would be no number crunching involved. All we had to do was to analyze the media coverage of what was going on in the market.
After everyone got changed into some dry underwear, we all went to work. Considering what was going on, alot of the coverage was surprisingly positive. I am not just talking about the newscasters trying to spin it around but also their clothes. I did not see anything that seem to denote funeral colors.
Overall it was a very easy assignment because all we were doing was analyzing their coverage in terms of their raction to the market. It was pertty straight forward. But it was so f**king mind numbing. At one point Salad Dancer wanted to roll in a tv with the Spice channel on just to make things more interesting. I ralize now why investment bankers and wall street types blow their money on luxury items. They need to do stuff that doesn't remind them of where they work.
We finally put our phone book together and that point it was 8. Rantman left to go see 300, while Salad Dancer, The Crow and the Queen were trying to figure out their plans for the evening. They decided the best way to inspired for a night on the town was a pre-game warmup of Tequila.
We didn't have 7Up but we did have a couple of cans of Cherry coke. That really hit the stop. After our 3rd shot, the girls decided to hit the east village. I just wanted to go home. Besides, the BS would be coming in town this weekend.
I am not thinking about anything else. I just want to sleep.
posted by Pradaprincess at 11:51 PM
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