NORTHERN PLANNER

There’s been two pretty big pitches in quick succession, almost concurrent, taking over my life until the end of last week. One was good news, the other not.

It’s not often you get to look both success and failure in the eye at nearly the same time, before post-rationalisation and self justification kick in. And loss is always a deeper feeling than the joy of getting the good news.

In any case, it’s always such an anti-climax. Pitches are things you both love and hate, nothing in this business quite matches the feverish activity before that big date, the fear that the ideas won’t come, the magic when it seems to arrive all by itself, the late night takeaways, those nights when you can’t sleep with the Adrenalin overload and when you do, you dream about the bloody pitch. You form bonds with new people in the agency you don’t usually work with, you get closer to the ones you do.

And then it’s over.

At first it’s a relief to get a little of your life back and hurtle through the things you really should have been doing instead of pitching. But then you realise  you miss it.

When good news comes it’s a pleasure to see all that hard work pay off, but there’s no time to enjoy it, suddenly it’s real, you have to make good on your promises. It never matches that heady brew of fear, expectation, creativity and sheer WANTING. And there’s no time, suddenly it’s real and you have to make good on your promises. 

Only loss can come close, the bitter, helpless frustration. You know it was great, you know it was the right thing to do. Why can’t they see it? Like the feeling of being dumped by a partner, you have to fight the maddening urge to pick up the phone, even though it will do no good. In a little corner, you’re sure they’ll see sense and realise their mistake.

They never do.