Forrest's Journal

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03/11

 

It's getting harder to take.

Last week was a source of infinite pain. Monday morning, bright and early, my bedrock, month-in, month- out account called up and said that the national outfit which bought them a few years ago is going bankrupt. That means I get stuck for $5000 worth of bills (Lord knows, the radio stations don't cut me any slack) and I may not even have the account when the new bunch of big shots take it over.

I've been on the verge of throwing up ever since. After the drubbing I've taken on the market, I was already numb. All last weekend, I went through mental exercises trying to make myself feel better. I was almost happy Monday morning, then I take a shot like that. I'll give the client credit. (Yeah well, I did that, too.) He said that I was the first guy he called. They gave me a letter of guarantee for going forward, but who knows how much longer I'll get revenue from them? Money isn't the point--we've got enough to cover the hit. It's just that my feelings of self-worth are so tied up with this business and as it fritters away, I'm left with emptiness.

The other day my bookkeeper asked me what my passion was if I didn't run Good Right Arm any more. Heck, that's the only I've had for 24 years--making this rowboat stay between the lines. On paper, I'm so fortunate--I have the best wife in the world, we have lots of resources, no debt, friends, contacts, it all makes so much sense. But darnit, when do I get to feel good about it all?

 

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