A day in a copywriter life from Barcelona
The street looked like a Christmas Sweepstakes ad, minus 6 degrees marked the car.
When I came back from dropping the dwarf off, I came to the office. On the way here I skidded twice. In the first slip I pulled my groin, in the second a vertebra was placed.
I didn't kiss the floor because I have more balance and coordination than a bastard, literally.
I was looking forward to sitting in front of the computer. I turned the heat up to 32 degrees and went out for a dirty hot coffee.
At that moment I remembered that I had to send an audio, so I got my head around it and went outside. Anyway, it was only going to be three minutes.
But what three minutes.
In one hand the cell phone, in the other the coffee.
The first minute of recording, perfect. No problem.
In the second minute I started noticing that the words came out of my hands and that the hand that held the phone started to shake.
I hadn't reached the third minute of recording when the phone went on the floor and, trying to avoid it, the coffee ended up in my pants.
We got off to a good start this morning.
I just remember being so cold somewhere else.
At the Pucela football stadium.
The ugliest and coldest stadium in the whole first division, by far.
When I was a child I went twice with my father to see the regional derby between Salamanca.
They say that exposure to cold improves the immune system, helps burn fat, and improves symptoms of depression.
We came back with a cold and sad because the Salamanca lost.
I take comfort in the fact that at least the calories from the fried egg farinato sandwich we got didn't go up on the meter.
The second time we learned our lesson. We showed up there with our pajamas under our clothes, scarves, gloves and blanket.
And that time we were cold, too, so you can get an idea of the level.
Also, in that training pill I'm going to explain the strategy they use in a gym to get the maximum profit from customers who don't even step there.