… But Not Mine
At the beginning of her glorious cover of “Gloria,” Patti Smith growls “Jesus died for somebody’s sins … but not mine.” That sums up my mood this week, kids. Even a Peter Buck blog search hasn’t helped. Mind if I bitch for a few lines?
I’m playing party planner this month. We have a huge luncheon for our division on Friday — full of theme and tie-ins and messages and the Introduction of Our Charter (feel free to salute) — and I’m in charge. I’m the creative, the project manager. I’m damn good at it. But. I. Hate. It. With a passion. Hate, hate, hate it. Concepting the big idea is fun … but the execution phase blows. It has been a month of interruptions and decisions: white cloth napkins, or black? square plates, or round? this photo, or that one? two-color or three-color logo? roasted potatoes, or garlic mashed potatoes? At least I got to put together the soundtrack for the luncheon; that I enjoyed. The stress of the final days is overwhelming … and I don’t do overwhelmed very well.
But, Cup of Coffey, you might ask, when do you have time to do your actual work? Well, between 3 a.m. and 7 a.m., my friends — which is why you’ve seen posts at all sorts of ungodly hours of the night. So maybe the sleep deprivation is contributing to my grumpy state.
The professional isn’t the only dark cloud this week. The personal is stormy, too. Judgmentals passing their judgments instead of letting me talk. Being told I shouldn’t be swinging on this playground, or merry-go-rounding on that one. Do they really think I'm too much of a ditz to make my own decisions?
And I can’t go to Renae’s opening in Reston on Friday … because I’m hosting a stupid corporate luncheon. Son of a …
Off to crank up Patti’s “Gloria” for the eighth time and dance out the frustrations.
BTW, if you’ve never heard Van Morrison and John Lee Hooker’s duet of “Gloria,” contact me. Brilliant. Simply brilliant.
* * * * * *