But Dinner Was Good

 

Start the computer. Check.

Open up the program. Check.

Update the software. Check.

Check that everything is working.

Again, check.

And when it's time to go, it doesn't work.

Worse, not everyone will wait for the issue to be resolved.

That was the conundrum today. Whether in broadcasting or anything else, we've all been in these situations. You train, practice, study, cram, and are ready.

And then? 

Poof.

The details don't matter. Some situations are more high leverage than others.

Then the blood begins to build in the face. The headache starts. The sweat begins to bead on the forehead.

The veins in the neck get sore from the tension.

The stomach twists.

Simply screwing up can be compounded by pointing fingers and "I told you so" moments.

And then it's all falling apart.

My face still feels red.

I own mistakes. If anything I often accept them too easily. I'm a home office for them, even when I don't commit them because I don't want the situation to fester. I want it gone as soon as possible.

But in no way is it a result of carelessness or anything like that.

The boxes were checked off and now I'm sitting here wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear for a few days.

Until Friday. I have a reason to come back into the world then. Plus I have a game that night (7 p.m. Mount Saint Michael/Iona Prep).

Oh, and Saturday, when I have Brunswick hockey and basketball.

And Sunday at 9 a.m. You know, because you saw you want a revolution.

It happens as the title of the post said. It happened but not because of carelessness. It happened because of misunderstanding and even confusion? Sure. If that's my screw-up, so be it.

Obviously, I'm not explaining all of it due to a variety of reasons, including the chaos in the moment. And, look, how we respond to chaos says a lot.

I prefer collaboratively but I also get being frustrated.

I just rotated my neck and, holy moly, I need a massage.

I probably also need an Advil or something.

So it does happen. I have to allow myself the grace to understand that because it will otherwise haunt me all night.

It will hang on me until I need an exorcism.

The key, of course, is to not let it happen again.

And further, understand that all parties recognized that it was just a perfect storm moment.

Lots of blame to go around and, yet, really, is blame necessary?

Move along, friends.

Now, let's not make to much of this either. Every day for over five years I've had to come up with a topic in this insane need to keep a streak going.

Sometimes they're ruminations on things that are a blip on the radar. 

Like this.

Yes, it's bothering me because 1) I'm a perfectionist and 2) I didn't like how this played out given I was *ahem* prepared but so it goes. Things gnaw at me. In a related story, the earth is round.

The sun, as it has a tendency to do, will rise tomorrow.

I currently have the apartment to myself since Sean has gone to a movie back in the Hudson Valley. 

I have some music going on my portable Bluetooth speaker.

Music, as it has been said forever, always calms the savage beast.

No, it's not The Beatles. Shocked, right? Instead, I opted for Traffic's 1970 album John Barleycorn Must Die. I figured I needed something a little low-key, yet jazzy. Kind of something to check out while listening to.

Not everyone's taste I know but this is working for me, so hey.

I'm also working on making some dinner, so a plate of ravioli will soothe my soul.

Another tale has been told. 

Things to think about and yet best to put it in the past.

And we keep moving forward.