The delayed launch

Die, also don't die, live also don't live.
When I was in primary school, there was a border-line sadistic teacher who'd return test papers in class by walking around and laying the paper on your desk blank side up. You weren't allowed to turn the page over until she gave the signal on fear of a sharp rap across the knuckle. So you can imagine what it felt like waiting for the signal. The desire to know how you had done (for this was a competitive class and culture) was strong, the answer was so close but you weren't allowed to know.

That's how I feel today, except worse because more is at stake now, or at least it feels like there's more at stake. Back in September and October (come to think of it, there was one in November too), I wrote many a begging letter - the efforts of which stunted my personal growth. Actually, personal growth is still stunted, but that's another story, kind of, but not really - not stunted that is, not another story. Anyway, to cut a rapidly becoming long story short, the rankings came out today, and our letter sits right on the cusp of approval and disapproval. Or as JC would say, "die also don't die, live also don't live". The official letters telling you which side of the cusp you will fall into will come should arrive at the end of the month, and it's unclear just where we're going to land.

Capital A for...
Can you say Ambiguity with a capital A? More Ambiguity - so good for keeping one slim because you lose your appetite when you don't know what's going to happen. If it were just a matter of waiting for the official letter...if only...I will have to decide whether to rewrite the letter, and a second one as a back up by next week. Do I put myself through the hell of writing more letters in case we fall onto the rocks, or do I work on other things on the assumption that we'll fall into the warm waters that will cushion our fall? One solution seems so defeatist, the other too arrogant. I should be used to this uncertainty by now - after all it's the hallmark of the work I do. You just never know for sure. Everything can be upended, Paradigms will swoosh by and knock you over. Arbitrary decisions will be made without so much as a 'by your leave'. This state of affairs was a predominant theme in 2013, and it's not a great sign that it continues in 2014. What state of affairs you ask? Being in limbo, walking through miasma of ambiguous uncertainty is what. I'm wanting to launch some new projects, but haven't found the necessary all we do is talk about the eminent launch.

Some gaps are worse than others
We're close this time. So close that I can practically taste it. We're practically flirting with serious intent, but a gap is still a gap, and it doesn't matter how narrow this gap is - with this particular gap, as long as there's a distance, even if it's microns, it may as well be the distance between the South and North Pole. And all because of the damn 4 agreements, of which the first tells me to have integrity. Damn. Integrity. But what can I do? This is the way I am. If there's something I really, really, really want, but I cheat to get it, then the whole  process is tainted and then I don't want it. So there you go. Ah bugger it all. The responses to all these letters are out of my control. There's only so much I can do to make my letters as persuasive as possible and once I send them in, what happens next will happen as it should. I suppose that the important lesson to learn here is that you can plan, hope, wish, beg as much as you want to, but you'll have no control over the results. After all, if you could control everything, what would be the point of life? It's true, you know. Unexpected surprises, like no-reason-for-it gifts, are that much sweeter precisely because they are unexpected.

Should have used drixoral with these
I have a little confession to make. I'm high on drixoral at the moment - it's a potent mixture of dexbrompheniramine and pseudoephedrine. Basically, one freeze-dries your brain and sinuses, while the other renders you do-lally-loop. I'm not being very precise in my description, but what else can you expect when your brain is a dried up husk and your thought processes are lally-looping all over the place. I'm pretty sure that they may have psychotropic (to some sensitive individuals like me) properties too so the drama is inflated, and the narrative obscured. Why drixoral? It's certainly not for recreation, rather the contrary. It's my annual sniffle and all will be well in a few days when these nasty virus what is attacking the good body is expelled, and my dried out tissues take in water again. These, Virginia, these too shall pass and all will be well. Now instead of wallowing in ambiguity, I shall do what I do for myself. I shall put myself first for a few days and see what happens. You see, trust is so very important. Like the whole control or not business, there is no point  otherwise. No. Point. Whatsoever.