Not much to blog about the office today, but I just had an interesting conversation with Mrs. Boss. It was one we’d come close to having before, as she initiated it each day on her way to the parking lot: “I couldn’t stop myself from parking all the way on the East side of the building today. But it was the only area where I could find a front-row spot.” I had previously held my tongue, but on that particular day I got resist no longer. The habit seemed unjustified by either time- or footstep-saving considerations, and I prodded for explanation: “I’m just a parking space person.” An unsatisfying response, but one that really got me thinking.

The suggestion that such a mild compulsion is commonplace, in my opinion, is absolutely valid. For her, it’s not a question of saving time; the sensation of “scoring” a good spot takes a front seat to pragmatism. A more efficient approach to parking may involve traveling directly to a spot that has guaranteed availability, while settling for a longer, more direct route from the third tier. But even if panning for the competitive spots doesn’t really pay off, it’s the way it feels that should count. My boss’s “thing” doesn’t alter her day by more than a minute, so I say let her inject some inefficiency into the day. Fine, she doesn’t have to do it intravenously.

That being said, I ask all of you to take a minute to share your various “things”. What counter-intuitive part of your routine do you keep around just because it makes you feel good?

Later on, Mrs. Boss asked if I had any similar habits. The first thing that came to mind was my movie theater's concession stand. I’m obsessed with the theory that there will always be a short/empty food line that people neglect because it doesn’t look active. I always approach the sheepish cashiers behind such questionable counters, but am generally disappointed to find that they are, in fact, closed. It usually takes them five or eight minutes to admit this—a bonus for my eagerness.

Otherwise, my life is pretty thing-free. My only priority in a parking lot is to find a car that matches my make, model, and color. I always park next to such automobiles, because it’s just so cute. Let that thought warm you throughout the already-hot weekend.

Peace, Love, and Personalized Media.

-John the Intern

A small business must be viewed from many angles, which makes the realm of entrepreneurship daunting. Though the founder of a company should treat his brainchild with the passion that he would a breathing organism, it is customary for outside investors to provide their support with less nurturing emotion (like when yielding crops); further still, a management team must ignore the larger picture in order to efficiently specialize and complete tasks; Oh, and there will be lawyers to make sure nobody has “beef”.

Which is why I ordered chicken throughout the two-day DailyMe board meeting this week. A modern-age Knights of the Round Table in some respects, the reunion marked the most power I’ve ever seen consolidated in our world of personalized media. It was a chance for my employers to flesh out the final product, as well as their launch plans, for all of those that care. The South Florida summit began with a bonding dinner on Monday night, and the final investor flew back out yesterday afternoon. The time within that interval was filled with presentations, demonstrations, commendations, computations, collaborations, and, ultimately, congratulations. No water sports were involved.

In hindsight, the event was very well-received. Everyone got along well, was satisfied with the product, and had no trouble with small-talk. I can verify only the latter observation first-hand, however, because I was just invited to the initial meal. Conversation topics ranged far and wide, with one portion of the group discussing Hillary Clinton’s recent cleavage-shot. Things were so comfortable, in fact, that one investor gave details about his recent wisdom tooth removal (the anesthetic left him knowing the lyrics to every John Fogerty song).

Yes, the kick-off meal was quite fun, but I admit feeling intimidated in the beginning. This was in part because I couldn’t decide where to sit at the table: I had to find a power-broking adult willing to forego the banquet’s networking potential by sitting next to a non-professional teenager. Fortunately, the tablemates did not find me burdensome, and graciously welcomed me into “big boy” conversations throughout the night. Only, like, two people I met asked what toys I was getting for my birthday.

The other concern came later, when I realized that I was in position to order my food before all others. The restaurant must have pre-empted my “how expensive should my food be” question days earlier, though, because every appetizer had the same price.

The real winner at the end of the evening was education, because I learned worlds about DailyMe’s many faces. And after hearing the next day’s meeting went off without a hitch, I say it’s time we launch, already.

Peace, Love, and Personalized Media.

-John the Intern

The days of our week may have been constructed by man, but I feel each one has developed a unique identity since. My sense is impossible to measure by direct means—weather patterns, dew levels, and even work loads vary for each of the seven – which is why I attribute the distinguishing process on the little things. Some workers may associate a particular day-of-the-week with a good restaurant deal (for DailyMe—Mexican Mondays, Pizza Tuesdays, Sushi/Thai Wednesdays), and others will just go by the TV programs that colleagues are recapping (we keep it real with Age of Love analysis). At DM, one could probably gauge the passage of time by the increasing dirtiness of my sole pair of khakis. It’s a really good system for me.

Friday may have more identity stereotypes than any of its brothers, and this is in part because the day is so versatile. This day/night has it all, but many argue that a firm’s productivity pays the price. The visible-light-at-the-end-of-tunnel aura often infects the workday, placing professionals in frivolously light spirits. “TGIF” manifests itself in several noticeable ways: Casual Friday dress (and any themed variation), starting the day late, ending the day early, et al. I encourage you to respond with other elements of that set the day apart from others in your office.

-John the Intern

Going into work when you’re sick: admirable, or inconsiderate? We all remember that girl from seventh grade who came into school with a stomach virus JUST to show her scholarly tenacity; you know, the same one who started the head lice plague four years earlier (motto: “if it aint’ airborne, it aint’ gonna stop me”). I never really understood her, though, because I’ve always valued the amount of work that can be done from home. As of today, I can express my pleasure in interning for a like-minded company.

In my last post, I mentioned that DailyMe favored the desktop computer over its portable younger brother. Don’t let this fool you—my employers have no qualms about taking their work home with them. Thanks to gifts like home internet, email networks, webcams, iPhones, Blackberries, and boysenberries, we can simulate nearly every element of interacting with co-workers (besides smell) from the comfort of our kitchens. I came down with mild illness today, so the opportunity to experience pajama work seemed ripe.

So far, I’d give the experience two thumbs up. I’m comfortable, focused, and recuperating. The only downer is that I’m slightly--how would one say--incommunicado. Despite the technology at our finger tips, discourse with the boss seems a bit emptier via e-mail and IMs. There’s certain roundness to direct human interaction, and I think that is what’s missing. The trend of our dialogue has been increasingly concise, and I found it comical by noon. It’s as if we want to maximize the efficiency of online communication, and will use any abbreviation to achieve that. My last e-mail from Mrs. Boss didn’t even have a message inside—she squeezed it into the subject line (her nickname around the office is “20 words or less”).

Until the next e-mail comes in, though, I’m going to take either a nap or an ibuprofen capsule. Bad day to be sick, as the cleaning lady is here. I can’t hear any of my soaps above her…soaping, I guess.

Peace, Love, and Personalized Media.

-John the Intern

As a young man, I always considered myself fairly portable. That is--my music coursed through an iPod, most meals reeked of the packaging they were served in, and my car became a second home. The last characteristic was convenient enough—only a car can function as beach house by day and street-level urban studio by dusk—but parking meters make for deadline-oriented landlords. I don’t think my on-the-go lifestyle would have been the same, however, without one or two trusty laptops at my service. The world may or may not have realized that a hot computer’s radiation on the quad muscle is undesirable, but the name has stuck to the device that consumers like me will never forget.

I can’t tell if it was my new job at DailyMe or the natural ebbing of youth that forced me to become more stationary (Side note: the word “stationary” also denotes the material used to write letters. Ironic, for the mailing process inherently does NOT take place in one location). Either way: I’ve been a ‘tweener for the first few weeks, alternating between my IBM ThinkPad and a desktop monitor that the company provided. It wouldn’t have taken long to assimilate exclusively to the suggested machine on the first day, but a broken mouse made for easy regression. I soon sought comfort in the ole’ laptop, and utilized the desktop only for printing and remote applications. The first phrase that comes to mind is love triangle, but the three of us were doing just fine.

Until my conscientious co-workers replaced the broken desktop mouse. A great gesture, but one that brought my double cyber-existence to an abrupt halt. I was not prepared to take this step because I had haphazardly saved files (in no particular arrangement) on both computers. Further, I knew a purely desktoppy experience would promote good posture…and I HATE good posture.

I don’t think DailyMe would have any issues with a transitional period for consolidating my files, but I feel guilty when not using the brand new desktop mouse. Reverting to my laptop click-pad too often would be like playing with old toys after your birthday party. And it begs a significant question: now that DailyMe has invested technology in me, am I in over my head? As for the problem at hand, though, the best compromise may be to marry the new and the old. With a simple pull, shuffle, and plug, I will simply attach the new mouse to my laptop. I’ll be happy, and company money will have been put to good use.

A laptop with a desktop mouse…I guess opposites attract, after all.

Peace, Love, and Personalized Media.

-John the Intern