This morning I had a conference call with my three New York editors over at the Nickelodeon site as to what, exactly, I'll be doing for them over the next three weeks.
Talking with younger, hip women who make casual references to The Hills is intimidating enough.
Talking to them while trying to take notes - the sweats start to take over.
Talking to them while taking notes, trying to follow all three of their conversations, and their three visions for what I'll be doing ("This is a pilot project. So we want you to do X but not really do X - and make it lively and cool and make things up but be authentic and real, k?") is enough to cause me to sweat in very bad places.
Talking to them, understanding them, taking notes, trying not to sound like a total doofus and simultaneously trying to silently entertain my two year-old - I'm starting to reek.
Juggling all of the above then trying to swiftly evade my now shrieking two-year old by sprinting up the stairs with notes in hand and trying not to sound like a panting doofus - I may as well call it a day and start over.
People wonder why I am not always readily available by phone, and until you have crouched in a corner of a locked bathroom with a phone in one ear and your finger in your other while trying to write with your feet while your child pounds on the door - you won't get it.
Never let them see you sweat. Or hear you drop the telephone into a toilet.