Sunday, August 10, 2008

Like a rookie...

...I am nervous as hell about this afternoon's meeting.

That's what happens when you realize that this is, almost literally, my last shot. I've been trying to think of alternative moves, other ideas I might pursue.

There aren't any.

Very little sleep last night. Noises outside until after midnight, and the 3:00 a.m. wake-up-in-a-sweat bit.

Today, I'm nothin' but nerves.

I know I'll have on my calm, professional, got-it-all-together face when I sit down with the guy. But right now, I'm on thin ice, and I can feel it cracking.

It's damn pathetic when a 22-year record of doing quality work adds up to nothing, isn't it?

I think I'll go wash the car. It's either that or sit here and feel the fear eating me up. Some mindless labor may help.

At least it'll be a preview of what I may end up doing if the meeting doesn't get over the way it should.

I never wanted to try mountain-climbing, but I understand the sensation of dangling from a precipice with nothing between you and the rocks far below but a thin and frayed rope.

Not a pretty sight, Jim.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Good luck. Let us know.

fin

Wizardress said...

Hang in there. You can do this.
Saying a prayer for you.
*hugs*

DAL said...

Crossing all possibly crossable body parts for you, Scribbs.

Anonymous said...

Strange times we live in, Scribbs. Style matters more than substance, or quality. Sad.

S