Tuesday, March 8, 2011

:: at least i get to eat the cookies (without holding them on my nose first) ::

like a puppy who has failed obedience school two, three, four times running, i find myself sitting here in a familiar place, facing a familiar situation, yet feeling none the wiser.

it's the whole change versus acceptance thing. it's the whole "i make a decision and then continue to obsess over the question, meaning i really don't like my decision" thing. it's so familiar to me now i actually find it boring. i'm not even interested in writing about it. figuring it out. my inner therapist has asked that i please find another topic or just flat stop coming to therapy.

i decided recently to go with fabric walls for my trade show booth. my reasons are many and varied, but chief among them are two: it is the least expensive option, and it is the least wasteful option.

and really the deciding factor is the money.

and i'm having a hard time accepting that. i really don't want fabric walls. as much as i can sit here and obsessively troll google images and flickr and all of my favorite paper blogs seeking out fabric-walled booths in an attempt to convince myself that hey! they're great! whee! i just keep smacking up against how much i really don't like them. i don't like the fabric. i don't like the limited ways there are for displaying your product. i don't like the options, the executions, the problems, the solutions.

but i simply cannot afford to do what i want to do. it is too expensive. if i am to pay for the booth itself (okay, that's paid already) and the crazy hotel costs for the 5 nights surrounding the event, if i am to cover the cost of getting there and eating there, if i am to be able to send out marketing materials letting people know where to find me, i cannot have the walls i want.

but i cannot accept that. it's killing me.

i wonder if there are dogs in obedience school who know how to sit on command but who just cannot bring themselves to do it. dogs who sit, even, but just at the moment it matters stand up and pee all over the leg of the instructor.

i feel like i'm at one of those points -- like i am sitting here at obedience school knowing that all i need to do is just get over this one hurdle -- just accept the damned fabric walls -- and i will graduate, only instead of just walking up to the hurdle and jumping over it i am searching high and low for a different way to get myself to the other side of the bar.

i know. my metaphor is a bit muddled. it doesn't quite line up. but please, indulge me.

it's just that even though i want to want fabric walls, and even though i want to do the accepting thing and just move on to planning all the other details, i cannot. my husband proposes various options for hanging shelves in front of the fabric and instead of evaluating those options, i obsess instead over the fabric.

i search endlessly for an example of one single booth that has had fabric walls that i just love. so i can accept them.

even as i obsess over this, i realize that it is a silly thing to obsess over. i am embarrassed, even, to tell you about this. i don't want you to know that i am having such a good-versus-evil-scale mental battle over something as minor as this.

the logical, rational part of me knows that there are several really amazing companies that have used fabric walls at the nss and who have gotten lots of press and purchases even despite the walls i find so hideous. in fact i can think of one company that had what i consider a quite ugly fabric booth that just launched a collection at target. (like, the target.) but i just can't get past it.

i ought to be able to reassure myself that it won't matter what my walls are made of because my product will be so stunning. people will flock to my booth because they will want to see my stuff, not my booth.

but i can't seem to swallow this pill either. i can't seem to convince myself of this. perhaps it's a little bit of doubt creeping in? perhaps i somehow think that if i have hard walls and a perfect! splendid! gorgeous! booth it will propel me far beyond the success of my wildest dreams.

it's driving me crazy that i'm sitting here writing about this. i want desperately to attack this first trade show experience with grace and verve. i want to look like an old pro who has no questions, doubts, or turmoil. i want to sit and stay and hold a biscuit on my nose without even flinching or trying to eat it.

at least my husband brought home half moon cookies tonight. those should help.

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