Transitions: August, 2007
Suddenly, I’m seeking out “new opportunities” for making a living. It’s a long story, not worth telling, at least until my old company and I have sorted out the terms of separation.
Doesn’t really matter, anyway. This isn’t about why I left. It’s about where I’m going.
The outpouring of support from friends and family was breathtaking, and a bit surprising—most people seemed really happy for me. I guess it was general knowledge that I’d gone from marketing golden boy in the company to the guy who was keeping the wheels on behind the scenes. I wasn’t doing the things the company I helped launch had brought me on to do; I had become the enforcer when vendors weren’t performing, I was the guy who talked merchants and consumers into sticking around a little longer until things smoothed out, and I was the one who poked holes in woefully misdirected new concepts and filled in them again with better ideas. I’d drifted away from what I’m really good at, which is generating innovative marketing and revenue models and executing them while building combination online and real-world communities.
And I was nowhere close to being a full-time writer again.
So if the people I talked to regularly, but not every day, knew I wasn’t feeling fulfilled, I can only imagine what the one person who is totally tapped into my energy was picking up.
The thing about Simone was that she loved the idea of my company, and she was enamored of its name. She was pretty upset when I told her last month that we were in the process of coming up with a new name for the company (that didn’t stop her from proposing some brilliant replacements, though). So I was very gentle when I sat her down on the couch a few days ago to tell her I wasn’t working there anymore.
I told her that I had some news as we got ourselves comfortable on the loveseat, and she said, “I have news, too!” and proceeded to tell me about her favorite scene in the new Underdog movie.
As we pulled up our legs under us and she put her head on my shoulder, I told Simone that I was no longer working for the company—that I’d moved on, and was going to find something else to do. She thought about it for a moment, lifted her head, and reminded me that she thought the new name wasn’t going to work, anyway. I laughed, pulled her onto my lap, and told her we’d still have plenty of reasons to go to Boulder, which made her happy.
And that was it.
And now I get to figure out what happens next. This is not exactly where I expected to be at this time of my life. I’m sure I’m not the only single parent out there thinking, “Oh crap, I need to sort out health insurance, figure out how to pay the rent, and buy the kid new school clothes! Not to mention that dirty Ketel 1 martinis don’t come cheap.” It would be so easy to succumb to that fear, scramble for whatever passes for a job right away, or freeze up completely and spend the next three weeks curled up on the couch, nursing pints of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey® while tearing through my Netflix queue.
But, even though I was greeted with many earnest “another door opens” and “things happen for a reason” platitudes, I really do feel optimistic about our future.
So, in the midst of writing cover letters and resumes, meeting with people who could use my help on their projects, and negotiating my terms of release from the company, I’m trying to take some deep breaths and decide what I want to be when I grow up. Again.
What I’ve learned from the last two startups I helped launch is that I love to create new things. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, seeing how both BIAS and the latest turned out to be such miserable slogs in the end, but the thrill of brainstorming with smart people, the chance to do and learn a ton of different things every single day, and a sense of purpose—of being part of the Next Big Thing—combined with the abject terror that I’m facing another long journey into the abyss, is like crack for my brain.
I’ve learned that, unless the job is replete with variety, with reasons to be creative and open-minded, and lets me think about things from 12 different angles, being a desk jockey just wears me down. I don’t think I can do the cubicle monkey thing, now that I’ve eaten from the Tree of Knowledge. Which makes little sense, I realize, because, in my experience, the fruit starts out sweet and slowly becomes hard to chew. But because I’m me, I masticate tenaciously—I’m totally convinced that, if I just chew harder and longer, the reward will be worth the bitter taste that grows with every bite.
It doesn’t matter. Those first few bites are so worth it, especially when I know that I was integral in planting the tree, and one of these days, I’m going to be part of something that stays sweet all the way through, no matter how tough the occasional bite is.
How’s that for a belabored metaphor?
But before I devote myself to the next all-consuming brilliant idea, I’m going to help Simone enjoy the last few days of her summer vacation. How cool is that? We’re going to walk to the amusement park across the river, continue our learn-to-ride efforts with her bicycle, splash around in the last of the summer thunderstorms, and eat a ton of gelato.
And after that, I’ll help plant another tree somewhere.
Recent Comments