Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – November 23, 2004
- At November 23, 2014
- By Rosemary Wright
- In My Column
- 0
Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – November 23, 2004
Another Mini Muddle
Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – November 23, 2004 – Today at 11:00 A.M. was meeting #2, with Christopher of WebSite design fame, for the purpose of discussing in greater detail, the possibility of us working together on my new site(s). This project is taking on a life of its own, and soon it won’t need me to orchestrate or even attend the meetings.
Instead an imposing sphere of creative energy will show up at the table and indicate “yea or nay” by sending out a vibrational wave to those assembled. I will have negated myself. Just as E-mail flies through the ether and magically arrives in Australia, Budapest or Labrador, my new Web Site will appear at the click of a mouse – revitalized, exciting, informative, clever and sharp. This had better be the case because I’m going through another stage of befuddlement.
I have a clear, business vision one minute. I’m a savvy, competent professional woman, and seconds later I just want to curl up with a (full) two layer box of chocolates and a Daffy Duck cartoon. I want someone else to plan, work, have meetings, look after money, be ingenious and make decisions. Why does it always have to be me? I’m going through a little “bus shelter phase”. A touch of the old worry dust seems to have fallen on my forehead and seeped into my brain. I can’t do this.
Just keep the current site, save my money, be conservative, don’t take any risks, stay safe – be predictable. What if terrorists bomb Toronto? What if my house gets blown up and I need all my financial resources at the ready to re-build it? What if no one likes my new site? What if Christopher and I don’t get along? I can feel my anxiety level building up a notch or two and now I’m wondering if the tightness in my chest is really a warning of an impending heart attack. Time out – I’m not going to let this tension ramp up any further.
This all tells me that it’s time to re-group. It’s five o’clock, I haven’t eaten since eight-thirty this morning, I’m on meeting overload, tired, thirsty and hungry. I slept very poorly last night, and I need to get out of this muddle. First things first. I need to have something to eat. Visions of a piece of pie (a really big slice) and ice cream dance into my head – yummy, but not going to happen.
A green salad is in order with crisp lettuce, tomatoes, carrots and cucumber. Okay. Then perhaps I’ll answer my E-mail, check the Hot Sheets and shut my computer down for the night. Easy for me to say – hard to do. I feel a few beads of sweat break out on my forehead. Stop working at five o’clock. Unheard of!
Well – phase one is complete. I’ve been watered and fed (no pie and not even a smidgen of chocolate) and my physical being is quite refreshed. My muddle level is quite another story. Realistically, the heart attack is quite improbable – but what if they didn’t find me for eight days? Gee – I might have lost a bit of weight. This is the thing. I’m going to call it a day.
I’ve done all I can for today. A calamity of astronomical proportions is not (I repeat – “not”) going to happen if I do no more work on November 23rd. By tomorrow I will still be in worry mode, but the muddle will have sorted itself out somewhat and I’ll be able to focus again on the tasks at hand, like clients and business and forecasting and houses and newsletters.
Still wouldn’t it be great if I was cool, smart as a whip, sharp as a tack, blessed with a razor sharp mind and a genius I.Q.? Sure – I guess it would be okay – but in the process, what if I lost my sense of humour, my compassion, my kindness, my intuition, my caring and my belief in dedication and decency? I’m the way I am for a reason. I’m a work in progress – an unfinished canvas – and I kind of like myself this way – neuroses and all. My race is only half run – I just need a wee break. I’ll be back tomorrow!
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