braces, glasses, acne, perm

I'll dig up a picture of me in my glory days as a 13 year old. Wow.

So I've been gunning for this contract, see? And the guy who decides who gets it has been kind of elusive. I shouldn't worry. I have the right experience, plus my former CEO is a friend of his and recommended me heartily. But they are keeping me in the dark about all the details and now I'm just feeling like, to hell with them. I need to plan my summer, folks!!

It could just be my defensive reaction to the major embarrassment I sustained today. I called the guy, got his voice mail, slightly flubbed what I meant to say, and hit the key that I thought would let me "erase and re-record".

Yah.

NO DICE.

The automated voice simply said "Thank you" and ended the call, leaving me with a dial tone, and the sudden sensation of spit-talking braces on my teeth, huge glasses eclipsing my face, erupting acne in the T-zone, and chemically curly hair.

So apparently I sent this guy a dumbass message that abruptly ends mid-sentence. I followed up with a coherent and confident-sounding email, but I don't know if that'll save it.*


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* I'm REALLY glad that I didn't let my message trail off into funny noises, something I usually do when I've decided to erase-and-re-record, like "ga ga ga ga gaaaaaaaaaaaa thhhhhhpppppppttttt".