I've always wanted my public persona to be Brave and Strong. I think anything other than Brave and Strong wasn't really respected in our house when I grew up. It's a hard habit to shake. It's like the time I went out with the boy scouts, aged 9, without shoes on, running in the woods with the boys because I wanted them to be impressed. Stung by nettles and cut by wild blackberries, I soldiered on, head held high. Ridiculous, I know. I mean, generally, I am pretty brave. I deal with stuff, especially emergencies, and then collapse a few days later and stay in bed for the day. I'm really, really good in emergencies. But sometimes you have to make a decision that maybe you wouldn't have made a few years ago and today I made such a decision. I resigned an account (fired a client) who, though a brilliant genius, was making my life a Living Hell. I've been beating myself up about it. I kept thinking it was me. If I could just be better, or more clever, things would get better, but they didn't. Our communication was horrible. And for all the accolades and all the Oscar nominations, it was no-one's fault. It was just like a shitty marriage. And better to know that now than later. But it's sad, nonetheless. I've worked with a lot of creative geniuses in my life, and it's all about the fit, the chemistry. If it works, you can deal with anything.
I told my daughter today and I was worried about it. I know she holds me in high esteem and I know that she is proud of my job and the things I get to work on. She said the greatest thing. She said, "That's great. Proud of you for doing that." That, really, was all that mattered.