Fly or Die?

fly or die

Thursday, December 09, 2004
Boxing with Big Billy "So, how was your year?" Big Billy asks. I'm in his office - on the settee - in the corner, next to the lamp. He moves from his desk to the armchair opposite me. He lights up, raises his right brow and gives me that smile. The smile that says "I have you cornered." This year-end evaluation is going to suck. By default, I hate evaluations because I always come out feeling lousy. Ne'er good enough. Always missing the mark by just that little bit. "Pretty okay," I muster my most chirpy voice and square my chest in preparation for some hard and swift blows. I hope he won't bite off my ear ala Tyson. "No metal, huh?" I felt an invisible punch to my gut. Ooof. I straighten myself and mumble. "It's been tough ... with Heng leaving." "So?" he says and lands a left hook. Blam! I whither. Deep down in me, I know nothing is a good enough excuse for settling for mediocrity. I start fiddling with my pen, while he leafs through my selection of what I thought were my best campaigns for the year. He makes a lot of irritating hmm and hums. "You did do some nice stuff. Some high points here and there. But ...," he pauses for effect, "nothing brilliant." A right hook, a swing to the chin. And I'm down. The whistle blows. The referree counts. Half and hour later, head hung low, I slink back to my cube. Frank Sinatra is singing "Have yourself a merry little Christmas" on my player but I feel like crying. I feel bruised. Everything seems a little grey, muffled, numb - like the split seconds before you black out. Except that I didn't. I just sat down and looked at my monitor that has Jude Law as wallpaper. "Nothing brilliant." Those words cut. Deep. That's when I wonder, yet again, when do you give up on a dream? And Frank continues to sing ... Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow So have yourself a merry little Christmas now. ... the soundtrack of my life. Pencil chewed at 11:04:00 am //
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