King of Swingers, aka Jungle VIP

Today is different.

Today I left work at 3:30 p.m., without a stab of guilt, indeed, gripped by an overwhelming belief that I deserved to go to the pub for a drink. Or several.

Today I didn't feel the cold.

Today I noticed how the bare branches of trees are beginning to bud.

Today I opened my first new account. The first new account for the company this year. (No doubt, there will be others tomorrow and on Monday, but let me have my moment of glory.)

It's taken only nine months. Nine months of pursuit, occasionally joyous and occasionally wearisome, with periodic highs as we crossed each stage more-or-less unscathed, and frequent, overwhelming setbacks making me want to stay in bed for a month. Much midnight oil burned, and the occasional warning to my boss that I was about to throw myself out of the office windows (which, by the way, can't be opened, presumably to dissuade people like me who shrink from the inconvenience of first needing to throw chairs through windows in order to be able to dispatch themselves thereafter). Nine months. It feels like forever.

But it's all been worth it. :) I feel like a king. A somewhat drunk king, about to drink some more. Let there be light. Goodwill on earth and peace to all mankind. Bring on the dancing girls with their hoola hoops and war-whoops and paint the town red. I certainly will!


Update:
The town has been painted red. The dancing girls are wearily whooping their way back to wherever they came from. The documents are signed. And now, back to the program.