When I first found out about the gig I thought “This will be piece of cake.”
In addition to my practical experience last year, I’ve learned a bunch of stuff that should ensure it all goes according to plan.
I used to cut loose; a regular party animal. In those days, one forced oneself to stay up all night. Consequently, sleeping-in was a priority. More often than not, I stayed in bed indefinitely, all in the name of the great Pleppo.
But those days are over, and I’ve come to realize that the mornings are underrated. I rise to meet the dawn and brew a fresh pot with artisanally-roasted beans. I button up that blood red smoking jacket that warms me and reminds me of home like a soft loaf of fresh-baked bread.
The calls are coming in now. I hop in the car, or alternatively, step onto the bus, with a calm, cool and collected manner. I overhear that catty, conversational style which you hear so sickeningly often, and think back to the days when I was shitting the bed.
I thought I was prepared for the production, and additionally thought that I could make up what I didn’t know. Regretfully, it turned out that the training I had had had had no apparent effect on my performance.
They told my supervisors that I was “Not sharpest knife in the drawer.”