 When I had trouble sending a PDF attachment via email to my insurance agent a couple weeks ago, she suggested I fax it to her.
“What the what?” I said. “Who does that anymore? And what dinosaur operation actually has a fax machine on which to fax, heretofore?” As it turns out, ahem, I do. When my rep suggested I fax her, my initial response was that I would have to go in search of a location to do so. Like Staples or the FedEx store. But as I glanced across my desk at my new-fangled printer display screen, I noticed for the first time in the nine months since I bought the damn thing that it has a gleaming “fax” icon, right next to “print” “scan” and “copy.” Color me embarrassed. All I had to do was plug my phone line in the back of it and, BAM. Fax me up, Scotty.
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 During the past year or so, as I have actively worked on building my freelance writing and media consulting business, I’ve done a LOT of networking.
I’ve been pretty consistent, attending at least a few events and scheduling several individual meetings with prospective clients every month. But I got super busy in August and September, so I kind of slacked off on business development in favor of getting some actual paying work done. I’m now playing catch-up, on a mission to kick ass and ensure I have enough work to keep me busy through the end of the year. Being out and about at networking events again means I’m giving the ol’ elevator speech about who I am and what I do over and over. And over. And over again. It gets better and more polished every time … at least, I hope it does.  I’ve had a snarled ball of anxiety in my chest since last Wednesday. It’s rare that I get tied up in knots over anything these days. I’m more laid back than I’ve ever been in my whole life, which makes the issue that’s got me going nutty even more exasperating. It’s been effing with my serenity in a major way, and frankly, this will not stand, man.
What has got me all out of sorts, you ask? Well, the bane of my existence is a mandated, and very untimely, modification in my technological capabilities. In other words, I am being forced to change my e-mail address. |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
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