Corey and I are part of the cool-kids club.
We got ourselves a laptop.
A 15" Macbook Pro.
I'll tell you what, that darned talking dog Youtube sensation never looked so good.
Neither did the metal filing cabinet or the wicker patio furniture set I found on Craigslist.
Because that's why you get fancy computers; to make impulse Zappos purchases and watch online sitcoms while your husband forces you to sit through March Madness.
Eventually, I plan to get my graphic design on, which was my whole argument for getting this exact model. It's better at doing...something.
I need training first. Obviously.
But then it's off to a semi part-time career in freelance work for independent artists (like me!) and non-profit organizations. Not exactly where the money's at (excuse me, my preposition is showing), but if it covers my Mexican take-out habit I'll be satisfied.
It's all about putting food in the belly.
Food smothered in mole and enchilada sauce.
And that only took me eight years after my college graduation to figure out. I mean the career part, I've always known tamales were a way of life.
So if you'll excuse me, I need to go figure out what I'm supposed to do with my right-clicking finger if there is no right-clicker.