Gutpunch

Okay, I know this is going to sound like I'm whining, but I need to talk this through with me. Grab a glass of your favorite beverage and hang out and listen. But shhhh, let me talk, 'kay?

Things have been strange in my life lately - and not in the way that I like. Yes, all of the amazing things in my life are there - like my wife, my health, my family - but I've taken a couple of huge gutpunches lately, and me no likey.

Back in September, my boss quit. Upper management decided to let the inmates run the prison, and see what happened. Well, as a result, a core of us really formed a strong team. All but three of us started moving together in a positive direction, and I was happy to have a chance to spread my wings a little.

Last month, upper management decided that we needed a ring leader. And with some reservation, I threw my hat in the ring. I wasn't sure how much I'd enjoy the role, but 3/4 of my team were behind me, and were willing to follow where I led them. I was honored and flattered how they enthusiastically supported me.

So when management told me that they went with the other candidate, I felt like I was kicked in the nuts.

I expressed myself to my boss, who truly understood where I was coming from. "Congratulations!", I told him, "You picked a fine manager. Too bad you didn't pick the leader!"

Oh happy daze.

A day later, the team was told about the decision. They all felt like they were kicked in the nuts (and half of them are women!).

I'd be lying if'n I told you that I have gotten past being bitter. After all, management didn't seem to realize who everyone would run to after the announcement. And yep, I had to be the bigger person, and convince everyone that we had to give the person chosen a fair shake.

Got any salt to rub into that gaping hole in your belly, Matt?

So I focused my energies on school. I was going to pass the Project Management Professional (PMP) exam. I was gonna become accredited, and make my own rules!

And I studied. Shhee-it, I studied hard. My so-called free time was taken up with studying. I studied harder than I ever did in high school, or getting my bachelor's degree.

My exam date was March 13 - the day before the anniversary of my dad's passing - I was aligning stars to give me the best possible chance to pass.

On March 12, I went to bed, wanting to get a good nights' sleep ahead of the 7:30 am exam.

Hours later, I was still awake.

As the sun tinted the Eastern sky, I was doing tai chi - trying to jumpstart my head after a night of less than 30 minutes of sleep.

I went to take the exam, and found that it wasn't particularly difficult. Three hours, fifty-nine minutes and ten seconds into the four hour exam, I submitted my answers - praying that I got enough of them right - hell, even if I passed by the skin of my teeth! ...

Sure enough, I was shocked with the result - FAIL.

It felt like I sat there for an hour, staring at the screen in shock and awe and general disbelief.

Hello, gutpunch, meet my nards... again!

I was devastated. Again.

Sheryl and I kept the dinner reservation we had to "celebrate", and had an amazing dinner.

When we got home, I crawled into bed - 7:30pm. I slept til nearly 5am.

Well, I have lessons to learn here, and I think I'm going to take my time in learning them.

Awesomely, my team at work was very supportive (I'm sure you can imagine how amazingly supportive Sheryl was, so I won't even rave about her!). Yep, management picked a manager, not a leader.

Will I take the exam again? Everyone seems to want to know. Well, not really... everyone seems to ASSUME that I will take the exam again. Right now, I don't wanna.

But while I take some down time, and learn my lessons a little bit, I'm sure the need to pass that damned exam will become overwhelming - and yes, I will probably take the exam again.

In the meantime, though, I want to whine and pout a little - and you should let me do that because you can do something I can't - cry.

I think the craziest thing for me to get over is that I don't remember ever getting gutpunched like that twice in a row.

In the meantime, I realize that I don't have a lot of time to feel sorry for myself - in nine days, I will be recognizing the 10th anniversary of my Hodgkin's diagnosis.

Hello, nards, heal up. Get over it. There are worse things in life.

(I miss you, Dad!)