The things I worry about
So at the end of the workday, as I was preparing to leave the office for a night of carousing, the phone rang. It was a New York Times reporter looking for someone to interview. It was 5:15 p.m. He desperately needed to speak with someone that night (he was on a tight deadline).
An hour later, after acting as intermediary between the reporter and my CEO, I left the office. I didn’t confirm the interview (I was already running late), but both parties had home phone numbers, cell phone numbers and email addresses.
After my second scotch, an image popped into my mind. That image being of my CEO tapping furiously into his blackberry, trying to open the forwarded message I’d sent him with the reporter’s cell phone number.
Of course none of the people I was out with was familiar with the blackberry – they used an assortment of “other” PDA’s like Palm, Clio, Ipaq – not blackberry. So I was distracted from my conversations the rest of the evening. Even from the Atlanta Mister Big I met.
I woke up in a panic at 5:00 a.m. Unable to fall back asleep, I kept replaying these horrific scenes involving my Director, the CEO and lots of yelling. I arrive to work early to find that everything went off smoothly. While I was cursing my ineptitude at the bar, the CEO was giving a great 45 minute interview to the Times.
WHY do I do this to myself?