Another one from the hubby

Because my computer crashed, and then the computer on loan from work was taken back for the new employee, and because Tim has been working on his computer night and day on the pitch described in the following post and subsequently on taking care of the clients he neglected during said pitch, I have been computerless, and so my hubby has been posting more than me on MY BLOG!! But really, I'm happy to share. As long as he keeps saying nice things about me. And so long as he finishes the post that he made me take down last week before he asks me to post another one. And so long as he wins said pitch and makes us enough money to buy me a new iMac. And maybe a nice weekend at a spa.

Without further ado, I give you Tim.

Perhaps I should get my own blog. But then, I'm not the one with an international fan club, so nobody would read these epistles. Can't have that!

The joy of setting myself up for disappointment

I hate waiting. I pretty much hate waiting for anything - let alone waiting for the verdict on whether or not someone wants to pay for the sacrifices of my heart, soul, wife, and children.

Tomorrow, with a spot of luck, I'll be put out of my misery one way or another. Tomorrow I discover if a prospective client in Holland prefers my company over three others. If he doesn't - then several weeks of stress, Ibuprofen, caffeine, family neglect, sleep neglect, current client neglect, and generally everything that's good for me neglect... will be flushed into a Dutch sewer. I've lost count of the number of pitches we've taken part in since starting the company a little under four years ago - and while I know that we've won way more pitches than we've lost, for some reason, this particular pitch has gotten under my skin.

I think that over the past two years my general capacity for life has stretched far beyond what I've ever thought capable of. Much more than in myself, I see it in my wife on a daily basis. The past few months, for example, have been hellish for us - with at least one child (if not, one adult) continually sick or restless resulting in broken sleep for approximately 99% of the time since before Christmas. The night shift is largely (though not totally) borne by Greta, and while she's very tired most of the time, she's like some freakin' mother machine that (provided she gets some regular fuel by way of food, water and some rest snippets) can withstand extended periods of being pushed far and away beyond the manufacturer's recommended limits. On one hand, I watch her in proud awe. On the other, I know that she's no advertisement for anyone who's a little worried about whether they should become a parent of three young children lest they find that their lives are entirely taken over by such a project. Pah! (sarcastic sneers from me). Those who can't take the heat need to consider fail-safe contraception. A picnic it ain't. But if you have ever considered having the rough edges knocked off you good and proper and be forced to grow up into a real grown-up by way of exponentially increasing responsibility, then let the love flow, or adopt, and dive into the game. So... as I take a regular peek at Greta's 'this is how much I've grown this afternoon' chart, it makes me think about how much I'm also changing and growing. I can't see it quite as clearly as I see Greta's evolution, but I can EASILY see that this time last year I shared a shell with someone who ain't nuthin like the person I'm currently sharing it with. The responsibilities I'm carrying right now have recently come close, a few times, to knocking me flat on my arse (ass). A year ago, they'd have definitely knocked me on my arse (ass), and stomped me several feet into the dirt, and squished my face, and laughed while doing so. So... seeing change more clearly, albeit on something like an annual scale, also means that I see my boundaries more clearly - and when I'm invited to tender some work to a new client I'm getting an increased knowledge of just how much of a sacrifice that person, or persons, is/are asking of me and my family. And, since my capacity is increasing, so is the quality and thoroughness of my work. And, so is my awareness of all this. And it's this heightened awareness that has meant that this last pitch has, well and truly, dug its claws deep into my soul. All parties concerned put their hearts into this most recent piece of work - my business partner even sent his family to his in-laws for a week so that we could get it done with particular pride. In short, on one hand we've set ourselves up for disappointment on a scale we've never done before. On the other, within 24 hours of writing these words I could receive news that our proposals have been accepted, which will mean that the business will be taken forward, overnight, almost twice as far as we've managed to push it within four years.

This time tomorrow, I'm either going to be crying, or I'm going to be cracking open a bottle of champagne with my wife. We may even have one each.

And here's the point of all these musings... whether we win or lose, I never again want to meet a new client where I don't hand over my heart and soul. I don't mean that I want to pull out every possible stop available to me and risk driving my family and/or me over the edge - but I do mean that a standard's been set that unless I'm proud to the point of 'this is going to hurt real bad if you reject it', then I don't want to give it. Anything less is beneath the standards of my business, and beneath the value of the fee that we'll be charging for our work.

There have been plenty of pitches in the past where I've thought 'ah well, it doesn't matter that much if we lose', and I now feel ashamed that I ever thought that. They should all matter. And I should feel pain if rejected. And if rejected I should pray for speedy healing so that I can get back on my bike and try again. And if we win, it'll make the taste of victory all the more sweet. And oh... I love sweet things!

Here endeth whatever it is I'm trying to say.

Amen.