Headhunters are good for my ego.
Wandering in to talk to a group that was recommended to me, I was surprised to find myself particularly nervous. THese were the guys that had asked me to do a write up for them, that I had never heard back about. These were the guys that took three phone calls during what should have been a responsive period, just to hear a live voice.
These were the guys, that interrupted me every two sentences with gasps of surprise and quick runs to their offices to bring me new stacks of promising paper.
These are the guys, who while looking me straight in the eye told me
"you did some excellent work on that report you gave us".
That report that I wasn't sure I'd done enough work on, the report that I hadn't heard back about.
The report that suddenly gives me what I most desperately needed --
a reminder that I do good work.
Pure and simple, grungework even, shoulders against stone.
A reminder that I'm still one of the good guys. Not always, and not through the entirety of my career, but when I really really want to, all it takes is a tiny glimmer of honest motivation.
They used big words today, Business Analyst, Incorporation, they want me to incorporate so that they can start sending me piles of money.
I have to do a bit of research on it first, but suddenly the new year has brought a fresh breeze of contracts, people looking for me in particular.
As for Business Analyst?
It sounds terribly daunting on a white sheet of paper surrounded by proprietary buzzwords, but it refers to what I'm best at.
Technology, and communicating those bits of inspiration that tumble about in my brain.
We'll see if any of their prospect go through, the one being sent out this afternoon, the one being sent out Monday.
We'll see if the report that they asked for tomorrow will elicit similar, albeit delayed, reactions.
Either way, I heard the words that I've been so desperate to hear recently:
"That was some very good work you did."
Despite my rebellion against the rampant accomplishmentarianism inherent in my father, it is still one of the higher rungs of Maslowe's Pyramid, and one deeply ingrained in my happinness.
Good work, she said, shaking my hand and introducing me to her very excited boss.
Good work, he said, shaking my hand and staring at my chest while he gave me details just a little too wonderful to be perfectly objective.
Good work, they said, and smiled, and my heart smiled widely enough to swallow them both.