My Blog

A blabberfest of run-on emotions and exaggerations whispers of doubt and shouts of twentysomethings angst of thanks of unrequited regrets dreams and more, more dharma more spazz more jazz more of the stark ugly thoughts of the half truths and starry wide wants, of feeling and touch, of nothing at all. Of me.

Thursday, October 30, 2003

Nick-Ack

10 am. Palace Hotel. I'm sitting at the Lenders Meeting while my powerpoint is on the big screen. The CEO of Company X is speaking from memory and I hope to God that what's he is saying fits the facts on screen. He makes a joke. Polite laughter creeps across the crowd, dark suits and subdued ties. The horde of creditors flip along, fingering the 100 books that I put together - waited for production to be finished on until 4 am today. The sole woman in the crowd takes a sip of water and writes down some numbers. My numbers. The speaker halts and makes another joke. Except this time, it's about a typo in the graph on screen. My graph. Oh shit. Polite laughter again. I guess it wasn't that serious, but my stomache is squirming at the mistake. It wasn't trepidation that struck - it was annoyance. I don't care if the senior guys are going to make that one small snide comment that stamps their seal of disapproval on the mistake. I cared about the mistake itself. One typo out of 65 pages - mulitplied by 100 times and projected onto the screen. The typo stared at me - it was a blight on my entire week's worth of work.. throwing a wrench into 20 hour days and rendering 64 pages almost irrelevant. For the next 10 minutes, maddening thoughts crept into my system. What a waste. It didn't matter if all my work was spotless if there was this error. Not error with the numbers or figures mind you, but presentation error. I don't make mistakes, at least not in business; but then again, what's in it for me? Polite laughter. "I'm not crazy just a little unwell, I know right now, you can't tell. But wait a while and maybe then you'll see, a different side of me." -MB20.