A morning, early.

It was an early morning, like before 6 early.

Late yesterday, I got an email about a pressing assignment. Not a pressing assignment like I have some wrinkled shirts to iron. But a pressing assignment--you get the idea.

We walked over about a block and a half to a small conference room to chat about the assignment. It seemed fairly important and very rushed. Stuff is needed late today.

So, like I said I got in before six. I put Rossini's "Semiramide" on my iPod. If Semiramide doesn't make your blood flow faster, like Formula 1 faster, well something's wrong with you.

I guess because I've been around the block more than a few times, I tend not to look at assignments--especially 'writing' assignments with a great deal of trepidation. The analogy I'll use is this: You might think your car is in serious trouble because it's spewing oil. I've come to realize that that's an easy problem to fix. Just find the pinhole and seal it.

But most people start screaming that it's the end of something. It's not. There are minor things to handle in order to make things right.

In any event, like I said I a couple of ticks before 6 I sat down at my table. I put Rossini up high, and I did what I do.

I typed.

I typed and I re-typed.

I read and re-read the notes that were passing for direction.

By around 8:15, I was pretty sure I had plugged all the metaphorical leaks and I sent my copy around.

There's a chance, of course, that I did a lousy job and people will hate what I've done.  There's a chance I'll be yelled out. Castigated. Flagellated. Lacerated.

But those are the risks you take.

It's better to put something out there and worry than merely worry in the abstract.