The Little Black Book

This was going to be a difficult day. I threw myself back on my pillow and threw the covers over my head. Every day that passed I tried to muster up the drive to get up and accomplish what I have longed to accomplish. Finishing the stories that have been wandering through my mind that are half-written in my little notebook. Along with the poems I so often created while waiting for my tea to boil before heading out to work. Or even putting down on paper the side designs I've thought would be good for this company, or thoughts about my small town benefitting from this or that and how I could develop it and where I would put it. Instead, I crawled out of bed and to the shower and slowly, painstakingly dressed myself for work. All the while drinking my Kahlua and Irish Cream coffee. #greatestpasttime … whining to myself.

My roommate, Jill, grabbed me by my shoulder on my way out and reminded me that I am alive and that in this world and I am a part of the human race instead of just on a steadfast track to unconscious-vill. So I swung my head around with coffee in one hand and my bag, design sketches, and purse in the other and scrambled to the door. She caught me to look me right in the eyes and say, “aren't you forgetting something love?” Of course I was forgetting something, my keys, how could I go without my keys! She smiled and handed them to me from the doorway. She wouldn’t be home later so I kind of needed them to get back in. Right now, I really needed to hurry or I'd miss my bus! See a difficult day, sigh.

Sitting on the bus I'm the kind of girl who keeps to herself. I'm a quiet rider but without being glued to my phone or with headphones in my ears. Apparently, that is an open invitation because people talk to me. They actually talk to me as if I care even an inkling about what they have to say. I admit that I have based a few characters in my writings off these characters I come across but still... come on now... really? I think I have heard everything from what breed of dog everyone on the number 11 bus has, to whose mother has what illness, and when they're having surgery, just to mention a few. That's not even the disturbing part, the disturbing part is that they talk to me and I say nothing in response. I guess I actually believed that they might have got the hint that I don't care, but no, they must think that because I don't talk that they can talk all-that-much-more. Now, I would tell them to leave me alone in my not-so-fun fashion but I don't want to make enemies any more than I want to make friends. So... I keep my mouth shut trying very hard to focus on what I have planned for the day ahead of me.

This day was one of the best let-me-tell-you. Supernatural steroid rain was pumbling my face. It seemed to formulate its worst right over me. To make matters even worse I was entirely too close to the curb after I got off the bus while someone driving by was also entirely too close to the curb and, I think, I would have been less wet if I would have jumped in a pool. Thankfully the building where I worked is still a little outdated and has the hand blowdryers. For the next forty-five minutes, I stood in front of one trying to dry myself out, work and all. This was the time I was going to use to get ready for my presentation to the investors who could possibly, maybe, hopefully, want what I have to offer... but alas, I’m was just going to have to offer up my half-damp self and splotchy work instead. It is what it is, right?

“Good morning everyone! I sincerely apologize for my appearance. It seems the heavens wanted to make this a challenge today as well as the normal anxiety fest.”

Indistinct murmurs and various hello's were what I heard as I made my way to the head of the boards' table. For the next two hours, I used every sarcastic bit of comedic banter I could muster with them to get my very real and serious proposals across to them while realizing the level of difficulty it took to take my appearance seriously. At this point, I was figuring my day was shot so I needed to just relax and just go with it. After I made my speech and answered every single one of their questions with precise, financially sound, and logical answers the board clapped their polite claps and rose to leave. Now I finally sat down in the head chair and buried my head in my folded arms for a minute. I just needed a minute. I was well aware that it could be days or even weeks before I found out if they wanted to go for it and take a chance on me.

“Miss Everett?”

I lifted my head wearily. “Yes, Denise.”

“This was left for you on my desk.”

It was a little black book, a small black notebook, or a journal maybe. “Do you know who left it?” I asked.

“No ma’am I don’t. They must have left it when I stepped away to go to the ladies room. I’m sorry. Do you want me to keep it and track down the person who left it?”

“No, that’s ok. I’ll track them down. You can just set it down here next to me. Thank you.”

“Of course. Do you need me to get you anything, like water maybe?”

“Actually, that would be great Denise.”

“Certainly.”

After she left I looked at the little black book. It wasn’t big and didn’t have any distinguishing marks. It was just plain jane, kind of like me, sigh. As I opened it I saw all kinds of notes in there about my presentation. Some notes had smiley faces, some had question marks, some had answers next to the question marks. Luckily there were no bad remarks so that cheered me up a little. Until I hit the end... when I saw a check for $20,000 tucked into the end page. In the memo, it simply read “Seed Money”. That changed my life completely.

Sometimes little things contain big opportunities and bad days end with great beginnings.