I have a big presentation to make tomorrow. I have known the date since Sunday night. I have ideas, I have some research, I have some sketches, . . . I have no presentation.
You would think this would make me nervous, but it doesn’t. The presentation is a larger version of a plan from a couple of years ago. I know how it works because it’s my plan. It’s the dream project.
I am not convinced it’s going to happen, which explains part of my hesitation. I also fear that if I put it all down on paper, the plan could be done, without me. I expressed that fear to BP, who found it ludicrous. The nice thing about being the business partner of a former client is I know exactly the bullshit he does. It’s why I have not let him into the thing I am doing with BFD. I also have not told him the plan, though he is my first presentation.
BP insists it’s my plan, my concept, whatever, but I know it’s really not. Still, if I finish the plan and it is implemented, I could make a significant amount of money, and I could see the vision realized. I might even keep a decent portion of it. It gives me a seat at the table, no matter what happens, and that can enable me to do more plans.
All I have to do is finish it.
I have written versions over the years and the material is familiar. It’s so familiar I could pitch it at this moment on a conference call, if need be. It has all the right buzz words, plus it has the structural elements to sooth concerns even for people in my incredibly preposterous industry.
[A small source of tension between me and BFD: he does not like the primary industry in which I work. It makes absolutely no sense to him, so he cannot understand why it would make sense to anyone else, no matter what I tell him. He does not understand why anyone would be involved in it, in part because it’s so competitive and the barriers to entry are low and the financial risks are significant. Since 90% of his industry is in trouble, save his miniscule sector, you’d think he’d be more open-minded. Instead, he keeps encouraging me to work for him and then develop my own business in his field, where I would continue to work with him, but not for him.]
Earlier this evening, I sat on my bed with an old spiral notebook belonging to A, which I found on a shelf in the library. I sat in bed and wrote out page after page of diagrams, with arrows and boxes, and charts, showing how the plan works. The plan works. It’s easy to understand in a sentence or two. Management and development of it may be tough, but that’s the fun part.
I love finding clever solutions to problems. It’s how I developed this plan in the first place. I thought of every problem my clients have and I solved it in one neat package. At least, I think it’s a neat package. It will be interesting to see if I am alone in that thinking.
The plan is complex with a lot of moving parts, but I see an elegance to the design and a solution to common problems. If the presentation goes well, then it could start within 60 days. If it goes poorly, I retool it.
I am glad BFD is gone for the week. Though I miss him and I would have loved to talked this through at our favorite midweek dinner restaurant, I appreciate the opportunity to work without any distractions, aside from the cat crawling across me or tucked in next to me, purring loudly.
Tomorrow morning, I will finalize and finish drafting. My goal is to have it roughed out by 2, needing only minor tweaks. I left the hardest part to the end, but the plan presentation works without that finalized.
I am only a little nervous. Ideas are flowing through my brain and I may have just resolved the remaining issue.
Now, to finish it in six hours and to see if I can get buy-in . . .