Oh yes, I am.
The Trickster.
See....soooomehow, in the course of a series of interviews, a fairly well crafted resume and a bunch of conversations, I've managed to convince the procurement organization of a well respected Fortune 500 corporation to award me the title of Senior Manager complete with an office (with a window that has a really nice view) and a fairly robust staff of minons to do my bidding.
Me. The goofball from New Mexico. The kid who, once upon a time, had to be taken to the doctor because I got a piñon nut stuck up my nose.
That one.
For some reason they actually think I might be.....good.
Damn. I convinced them. Now what?
I'm pretty sure I'm a fraud.
Day 3, the rubber is, you know, sort of starting to meet the road.
Can I shove another piñon nut up my nose and sidestep this responsibility?
No, probably not. Guess I better just keep showing up and trying to make good on who they seem to think I am.
Abject fear. Whatta rush.
