Last night something really really weird happened and scared the bejesus out of me. I woke up at 4:30 a.m. to the sound of a plastic bag rustling somewhere in the house. It was the kind of rustling where you can tell there’s something heavy landing on top of it, so I just assumed it was the cat. And then I noticed the cat was at the foot of the bed. When I leapt up in terror, I woke Greg up, and I quickly convinced him to check out the house while I grabbed the phone and the rubber door wedge and ran into Chloe’s room just in case some shit went down suddenly. (I love my husband, but he’s got a better chance at defending himself against someone big and scary than the Bear does. Don’t judge; it’s first instincts, people!) After ten minutes of exhaustive searching, Greg declared there was nothing to be afraid of and came back to bed. Just after we turned off the light and had laid back down, a bright light permeated the room for a second. I happened to be looking at the window at that moment and noticed that it wasn’t the kind of light associated with lightning or headlights; it was from a close, direct source, almost like a camera’s flash. Greg saw it too and wasn’t fazed, but it was enough to keep me up until sunlight lifted the veil over our little house.
Which is really unfortunate because I have a superimportant interview today with one of the guys that owns like, half of Myrtle Beach to help me get some information for this large project Greg and I are working on (again, check the personal, hidden blog for info on that, if you’re that curious/bored.) and, even though I had to pull some strings to get it, I really want to create the impression that I’m an up-and-comer, confident, independent, intelligent, and able to get shit done without having to ride on coattails. I don’t want him to feel like he’s just having to see me as a personal favor to my dad, I guess is what I’m trying to say and, even though I hate that the world is like this, in the “Good Ole Boy” system of the South, I know I have to work my ass off to get him to take notice more than I would if I was, say, my brother. Needless to say, I’ve worked for the last week researching the shit out of this guy’s EXTENSIVE history with the area, which dates back to the 1950’s when his dad came to town and basically turned it into the massive, sprawling tourist trap you see today. (For the record, this empire owns the classier hotels, restaurants, golf courses in town. Not the crappy neon-clad ones.) So I want to talk to him for the purpose of learning more about marketing to the tourist industry since he obviously knows way more about what visitors to the Strand really want than I do, but I also want to get a little more information about the state of Myrtle Beach’s tourist industry, who the leaders are in it’s development, and what sort of improvement or growth he sees or hopes to see in the future, either through the Chamber (which he’s been on the board of for 25 years) or through the efforts of independent businesses. I feel like this is all valuable info in general. However, he did make mention that he needed a couple new writers for his businesses’ websites so there’s an opportunity for that to be mentioned BUT I don’t want to even hint that I’m there seeking a job. (Although, truthfully, it’s really not important to me one way or another.) So my purpose is to “Wow!” him enough that he’s inspired to offer that sort of leg-up [and any other help] out of his own volition under the impression that I’m “one to watch” and “hold a lot of potential and promise” and worth supporting and all that. Plus, nobody likes a beggar/charity case. Anyway, because I didn’t get much sleep last night, I’m afraid that my thoughts aren’t as clear as usual and the luggage racks under my eyes make me look like a meth addict. So there’s that.
In related news, I used to work for this really talented, driven company last year who was all about supporting independent restaurants and delivering daily culinary news to the area without selling out. Although my services as a writer/reporter were no longer needed after September-ish due to economic circumstances, I was still asked to be a sales representative. I spent about three months really working hard on distributing sales packets and following up with potential clients but in January, when my massive wave of depression hit, I dropped everything in my life for about a month, including this deadline-and commission-driven side gig. After a month of not communicating with my editor/boss, I was too embarrassed and too ashamed of my unprofessionalism to check my emails from her, let alone to pick up the phone and face the music by making pathetic, sanity-related excuses. So, instead of acting like an adult, I treated my unprofessionalism with even more unprofessionalism and sufficiently burned a local bridge for no good reason. ::: sigh ::: One would think that, after a few years working the 12 Steps I’d be a little better at facing my major fuck-ups, but this time I retreated back into cowardice and made an ass of myself to one person who really believed in my potential and gave me a start into the professional writing industry. Way to freaking go.
ANYWAY, after sitting around kicking myself for it, I decided not to spend another day perpetuating this Fear and immaturity and so I sat down and wrote her a hand-written letter of apology with sincerity and nothing more. (I never expect this woman to ever trust me with any sort of job again and, frankly, I don’t blame her at ALL. I’m positive I’d do the same thing.) I extended to her an offer to get involved with the project Greg and I are in the midst of [risk and cost-free] on a totally third-party perspective where we basically feature and promote her website as a local perk without her having to do anything in return. (I thought asking permission to use her name would be better than asking for forgiveness in a few months should she find it and decide she doesn’t want to put her name on anything related to me or my work, should I make her efforts look trite and unprofessional by association. Again, I get this mentality given my previous/recent behavior.) I’m still pretty ashamed, to be honest and I’m sure I will be for a while, but at least I’ve done my best with what I could at this point and, according to the Four Agreements, that’s all I can do.
Man. When am I going to learn not to piss on great opportunities? One of these days I’m not going to be blessed with so many second chances and I’ll have nobody to blame but myself and nothing left but regret. I don’t do it nearly as often as I used to (I have a long history of blowing things… um… that sounded wrong…) but still, I do it enough to let it interfere with my life, growth, and general attainment of goals. And that’s not fair to anyone. ‘Specially me.
Who's said what now?