Yesterday I sent a draft of a short presentation/pitch to my friend Paul for some feedback. The pitch had to go out no later than the end of today and Paul kindly got back to me this morning with a few brief but semi-crucial suggestions. These, I felt sure, I could easily incorporate. As the pitch is but a few minutes of recorded video, it would not be hard to shift the script and record the whole thing before my first cup of coffee.
Twelve hours later, after being interrupted by the noise of construction going on suddenly outside the window (why does the perfectly good basketball court need to be repaved today?) and by the evil cats I live with who, for the first time ever, made their satanic “we want dinner” sounds six hours early (chastising them at noon does no more, it turns out, then pleading for their patience at 6:00) and after squeezing in a number of work meetings, I ended up with well over 100 failed attempts at an improved recording.
Mostly the problem was my own unraveling. I would be on script or sound relaxed or get the right light in the next version. But it never happened and I just submitted the same draft that I sent Paul yesterday.
We are such stuff as neurosis is made on.