Freaking Out

by Robison Wells

May I remind you of a few things?

First, I'm in grad school. You know this, because I tell you about it every other day. I'm always complaining about finals this and financial aid that, and frankly, you're sick of it. That's fair.

Second, I'm on an internship right now with ConAgra Foods, doing marketing for Orville Redenbacher's popcorn. Specifically, I have spent the last two and a half months looking at kernels--that is, the popcorn which you don't cook in a microwave. Popcorn is my entire life. You like popcorn, don't you? Enought to devote your life to it???

Third, this is how brand management internships work: an intern will spend all summer on a very specific project--something meaty with strategic concerns and large dollar values attached. Then, after eleven weeks of research and testing and thinking, the intern gives a big presentation to company decision makers.

Well, my presentation is today. At 3:00pm, CDT. I will be presenting to local folks, like my boss and coworkers, but I'll also be videoconferenced to Chicago and Omaha, so that the four company presidents can be watching and asking questions. That's right--the four men who report to the CEO of a Fortune 250 company.

Oh, I forgot to remind you of the fourth thing: I once took a personality test which included this gem: "A major source of concern to [this personality type] is the haunting sense of impending failure." This statement has always been me to a T. In fact, my other blog, which describes my day-to-day struggles in the MBA program is entitled "The Haunting Sense of Impending Failure."

But, until the last month, I had no idea what impending failure was all about.
For the first time in my life, I've started getting panic attacks. I can honestly say that until July, I've never had these things--I didn't even really believe in them--but I now understand, and I hope to never have them again. They're not just my usual run-of-the-mill pessimism. This is an overwhelming feeling of wanting to run away (and, lest I be misunderstood, I'm speaking literally, not figuratively).

So, panic attacks, big presentation. Lately I have been working about thirteen hours a day, six days a week. I sit in my little cube, crunching numbers, making graphs, exploring hypotheses and running into dead ends--all in preparation for the big presentation. August 12th, 2008.

You'd think that was enough, right?

But then my wife flew home. My daughter starts school on the 18th, and we worried that we wouldn't be able to drive home quickly enough to get her there for the first day. So, the wife and kids packed up and flew out last week, leaving me a lone man.

And then she got home and discovered that our apartment (where we haven't been since May) had apparently flooded in the relatively recent past. Fortunately, it only festered for a few days before maintenance came in and stripped it bare, pulling all of our furniture out into the street and replacing the carpet and scrubbing the muck and flith off the linoleum. (And then they put all our stuff back inside, but couldn't remember where it went. So, when Erin got home Friday night, after a cross-country flight with two little kids, she was in for a real treat!)

And then, back here in Minnesota, I had to leave my apartment. We'd found a really cheap sub-lease, and it's been great all summer, but it had the catch that the owner was returning a week early and we needed to move out. Now, everything I own is in the back of my crappy Korean car, and I'm living in the local Microtel.

So, my point is: things are deteriorating rapidly around here. I mean, I ate a frickin' salad today--purchased from a diner selling "Butterburgers"--so you know my mind isn't where it ought to be.

I finished my presentation preparations today (I'm writing this Monday night). It was as good as it was going to get, and I left work at the first decent hour in weeks. And, to reward my lonesome self, I went to a movie. I saw The Dark Knight. And, let me tell you, if you're looking for a movie wherein you can relax from a mountain of troubles and turn off your mind, this movie ain't the one for you.

And then, as I was driving home, I was listening to an old NPR interview with Isaac Hayes, and they played his version of "By The Time I Get to Phoenix", (which, for you unclutured youths, is a very sad song about a man who is away from his wife), and I wanted to bawl like a little girl.

And now I'm back here in the motel, watching the Olympics and eating Chips Ahoy and trying to counteract all the good that salad did for me.

By this time tomorrow (Tuesday), I'll be done and happy and I'll probably pass out from eleven weeks of sleep deprivation and caffeine poisoning.

But, for now, I think I'll just sit here and freak out.

P.S.: if you are Josi or Jeff or William or Annette or Heather or LuAnn or Alicia or Derek or any number of other people: yes, I've gotten your emails and I'll be responding soon after this presentation is over. Just give me a minute to hyperventilate first.