2005-07-17 - 8:17 a.m.
So things at work are good. V-e-r-y slow, but that's good too. Lots of time to write. Write crap. Crappity crap.
One of the five Account Managers left. The Sales Director (the titles are just slightly different in the Enterprise/Major world) has cancer, lymphoma stage 4, but she feels the need to get the position filled before she goes for treatment. I offered to step in and mind the store while she's gone, so we spent an hour yesterday going over things pertaining to the larger accounts.
The accounts are one of the largest hospitals in town and an insurance carrier. Big. She hinted around that while she loved that job that I was doing for them, that it was clear that I should be looking for a promotion.
I don't want a promotion. What did Seneca say? "I'd rather people ask why I don't have a statue dedicated to me, than why I do."
Right now I'm still making stupid mistakes. I also do not miss the stress of a "hard" quota. Not at all. I have a "soft" quota. Meaning that whatever I sell counts. And by sell I mean contract extensions in addition to new line sales. It's wacky.
Yes, wearing a suit, heels and hose every day sucks, but the difference in the organizations is astounding.
Besides, in my current, "cloud-world" position, I get to work with amazing customers, all of them. I work with the Enterprise/Major Healthcare team. So imagine the biggest non-profit organizations, they're my customer. International relief agency and blood products distributor. My customer. I mean, I am working with agencies and companies doing important research in healthcare. Why would I want to trade that for working with a bunch of screen-door manufacturers?
My only concern is that someone will figure out that I work about 1 hour per day on things that it takes my collegues 8 hours to accomplish. So I sit at my desk trying to look busy.
One of the girls is very sharp. "Are you writing a book?" Uh. Yeah. But don't tell anyone.
So we're off to Gatlinburg. It seems straightforward but I'm concerned about the part where we go through the Great Smokies. It's about 40 miles, but is it trecherous? I wish I had an atavan.
Also, let me talk for a moment about what I'm capable of writing. While once in a blue moon I get inspired and I write something pretty and lyrical, what my level talent is good for is those "Chick Lit" books. Even the yahoos at ff.net know this.
I've got a series going over there in the House category. It's mostly humor/romance. Good reviews and I admit that it's tight, solid writing. I get ideas far above my level of talent and try to write them, and I confuse the audience.
So the audience is mostly 15-year old girls. Even so, I'm telling you, it's obvious. I have only that much talent and no more. It's kind of an eye-opener. Reminds me of that Preston Sturgis movie where the director wants to make an 'important' film, so he gets himself arrested for murder so he can live a hard life. He's been working on a chain gang and as a treat the prisoners get to see a movie. They show a Mickey Mouse cartoon and he realizes that while making 'important' films can be a good thing, it's just as important to create fluffy, fun things. People need fluff.
So I guess that makes me the fluffy bunny. I can live with that.
Bunny =:-)
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