Sailing in Chester

I recently started at a new company doing a familiar job: digital project management. I really like working part-time, and my new boss and co-workers are great. I have been working hard for the past two months to impress them and do a good job; plus, I get to go into NYC once a week, which is a long day but rejuvenates me. I always feel creative and good after going in.

My team had its first important client meeting in Pennsylvania. I arranged for all the train tickets, the lunch, the agenda, the back-up presentation in case the internet connection did not work and how I would meet up with my team on the train. The plan was the guys would get on in NYC and I would get on the same train in Newark and find them.

The morning of the meeting was a rush: waking up early, getting ready, traffic and making it to the station on time. I was ready. I was waiting at Track 3 for my 8:27 train, “All Aboard” the Big Board said. A homeless man (or maybe just an elderly man with bad pants) approached me and I walked away from the crowd. A train pulled in at 8:24 and paused. I got on and started looking for my co-workers. I didn’t see them right away, so I called my designer, Wondertwin (who I have known for several years) on his cell.

“Hi, I am on the train, where are you guys? I just got on in the back.”

“We are just a few cars back from the cafe car. Boss just headed to the cafe car so you should pass him.”

“Hmm, no. I must have missed you. That’s the cafe car ahead of me.” Pause.

“Wait, wait. Where is the train headed?”

An innocent woman tells me, “New York.”

I start sweating. I start freaking. “What? What? How did this happen to me? I am on the WRONG TRAIN! What the fuck?”

Wondertwin is calm and collected, “Hang on, hang on. It’s ok, it will all work out. We have all the presentation materials, it’s OK.”

I grab a random seat, talking fast, “Oh God. This is not good. Not good. Wait, I see a conductor, let me talk to him.”

Wondertwin says, “OK, I’ll tell Boss. Why don’t you call back when you know what your options are. It’s OK.”

I felt like a total failure. I didn’t think I was up for the job. I could not handle it. I had made a mistake thinking I could go back to work, especially with a two-hour commute to NYC (only once a week, but still).

I was hot. I took off my blazer. My back started hurting.

A conductor told me Track 3 had turned bi-directional for the past two weeks and there was one other passenger on the train this happened to as well. He even offered to get me on an Acela train to Pennsylvania. My eyes starting getting wet and I felt like an overconfident jerk.

When I called my boss, he said it did not make sense for me to take the Acela and be 40 minutes late. I was to go to the office and call in to the meeting. I was devastated. I felt like I should go home, I hadn’t even thought of going into the office. Clearly, I was not cut out for this.

The train pulled into NYC and I started walking to work. This was hard for me because in my head, I had planned out my day and at this time I was meant to be on the train with my co-workers telling them I had arranged for lunch and offering up my fancy 4G phone as a mobile hotspot. Right now, the only hotspot was the one I was in.

I had to talk to someone. I knew Cap’t Fabulous was on his way to work, so I called my Mom and poured my heart out. She said, “You are under a lot of stress right now. It’s OK.” and I said, “But I really like this job, it’s making me happy right now.”

Something wonderful happened next, my Mom said, “Just let it go.”

And right there on 28^th Street (between 7^th and 6^th Avenues), I did. Her words opened a space in my crazy and I let my mistake go. It seemed to float right out of me. Not all of it—mind you—there was some residual angst left, but overall, I felt OK. I felt I could go on and even do a good job that day.

And then, amazingly, I did. I figured out how to join in on the meeting with a phone call (which is harder than you think when it’s an unfamiliar office, phone system and conference room) and took good notes. I even made few jokes, “We don’t live in Switzerland, that’s for sure!” and “Sir Topham Hatt would say, ‘Amtrak caused confusion and delay!’  Compared to the Sodor trains, my mistake is nothing. Seriously, they derail themselves once an episode and constantly drop things.”

What is even more amazing is that my boss asked me if I wanted to work on another project for his company. I was sure he was going to say, “This just isn’t working out.” I was almost ready to say it myself.

And then even MORE amazing the next day I did not beat myself up over my mistake. I did not replay it over and over in my mind as I have done in the past. The panic and anxiety were gone and I have a lesson learned, “Don’t trust the Big Board, ask a conductor and look at the small screens, ALWAYS.”

I got off-track, but now I know how to get back on the train. And I did.