Head Over Heels

Maybe it’s just because I’ve been eating copious volumes of birthday cake, but I’m feeling a little more optimistic lately.

I mean, it’s all still shit. Obviously. But it’s been shit. And it’s going to keep being shit. And we have a shit ton of work ahead of us if we’re ever going to get this shit sorted. But the shit? At the very least, you have to give it points for consistency, right?

In one of my former lives (read: my late 20’s), I did events. Like three-day international affairs for muckity mucks. The work flow of such events was always very predictable. A year or two out, you’d secure the venue and dates. Then chose the theme. Design the logo. Secure the juiciest speakers. Make teasers and save-the-dates. Line up more speakers and finalize the agenda. By now you’re only a few months away from the event and it’s a flurry of finalizing things – catering menus, program layouts, event lighting. Speakers drop out. Attendees cancel. And on one particularly tragic occasion, your venue is flattened in a hurricane. To bring us back to the accidental word of the day, everything goes to shit.

But inevitably there comes a point where you’ve done everything you possibly can. A quiet. An eye of the storm, I suppose. You’re at the venue – sound equipment in place, staging just right, welcome bags lined up behind the check-in desk. You are finally alone in the quiet of your hotel room with the right adapters for your chargers and the support stockings you’ve been wearing for 18 hours straight crumpled in the corner.

And even though you know beyond the shadow of  a doubt that SOMETHING will go horribly, horribly wrong at the event, you can’t know WHAT it will be. You just have to have faith that you have prepared thoroughly enough that when that particular shit makes impact with the whirring blades of the fan hanging above 300 CEOs that you will be able to adapt.

So you self-care your face off – order something from the room service menu, sink into a marble tub, and wait for the adrenaline to slow enough that you might sleep.

Maybe we aren’t quite there yet, but it’s close. I 100% think we should leave everything on the mat for this election, but I also think it’s time to start considering how you’re going to rest up for what will follow.

Full disclosure? I didn’t watch either town hall last night. My vote is safely at the county clerk’s office. I sang and played a ukulele instead. I went to bed at a decent hour, calm and smiling instead of enraged.

I guess what I’m trying to say is don’t forget to fill your well. Feed your soul. It’s real tempting to wish this time away, but every moment is precious, dammit. Even the shitty ones.


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