I sat in a room for a meeting I was to lead on our next event. No one showed up. While I know that nothing should be personal, I cannot even begin to describe how badly I felt. We are in the middle of much change, but what I am doing cannot be set aside and picked up again when it is convenient. Messaging doesn't happen all at once. To be successful, it must be sown with patience and care.

I had spent three days trying to teach myself Illustrator because someone needed an EPS file of a design I had created for a t-shirt at the last minute. When I told her that I had finished, she told me that she had already gotten someone else to take care of it.

I also learned that she had already settled all the arrangements for a cable station to tape an event in March.

I am nothing. My work means nothing. All my labors count for nothing.

I cried the whole way home from work and all through the evening, with neither of my friends answering their phones.

Sometimes, silence is not golden.