Free Falling

It was a wee bit of a depressing day yesterday as I left mom's house in Florida and flew up to New Jersey. I've been on the road for nearly two weeks now and want nothing more than to look into my own empty fridge hoping there will actually be food there but knowing it'll just be the sound of crickets, then to slink into my bedroom and sink my head into the comfort of my own pillow. The fact that I won't be home until Wednesday has my sadness holding my happiness in a headlock and giving it some pretty serious noogies.

The reason I came to the wonderful state of New Jersey is because I had a pretty big client presentation today, the first day after the Thanksgiving holiday. It's a special type of crazy, sado-masochistic client that schedules a big presentation the first day after a national holiday. Fortunately, after a bit of vacation-time stress and even more last-minute adjustments by the creative and new business teams, the presentation went very well. In fact, I'm really excited about it. Honestly. I've been working on this opportunity for 2 months now and it's down to three agencies. I really want to win this business in a bad way. In fact, I really need to win this business. You see, I haven't landed a really big one like this since I've been at the company, though I sure have lost a few of them. So there seems to be a lot riding on this. Like my job, for instance. I mean, I've been selling business for the company, bringing in millions of new dollars every year. But we all know that it's the high profile wins that mean the most. Those are the ones that keep jobs. The sad thing is, I'm not really a sales guy, I just play one on TV. I don't really know what I am. I don't think I figured out what color my parachute is. In fact, I think I jumped out of the plane and forgot to put the damn parachute on in the first place. Maybe that's my problem. I'm free falling.

So it's Monday night and I'm staying at my sister's place. I was standing in the middle of the kitchen earlier, talking to her, when my three year old niece, Emily, stepped in front of me and said "Uncle Jessy." That's what she calls me, Uncle Jessy. She can't say her F's, so I've become Jessy instead of Jeffy. I like it. I think it's pretty cute.

So anyway, she says "Uncle Jessy, you know what?" "What, Emily?" I ask. "I love you," she says.

I don't know what color my parachute is or if I have one on my back at all. But for some reason I know that as I fall down to the ground I'll be safe because my three year-old niece will be there to catch me.

I love you too, Emily.