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I held a free call, “How to Choose, Commit to, and Complete a Project”. Awesome title, right? I wrote out my script. I practiced for days. I promoted. People were showing up! After a couple deep breaths, I hit record.

I have two resident cats in my room. They’re brothers that don’t like the rest of the house so they hang in my room.
GBC stands from Golf Ball Cheeks. He’s brown with black stripes and white cheeks. When he was a kitten, he looked like he had golf balls in his cheeks, like a chipmunk. He started out with another name, something from Lord of the Rings, but invariably we’d say, “Which one?”
“The one with golf balls in his cheeks.”
“Got it.”

Sammy, the older brother, is calm and collected. He’s a dark gray with white socks and a little white muzzle. He makes sure GBC eats and gets water. When they get treats/my lunch, he makes sure GBC gets one first then he’ll think about it. (Usually GBC eats Sammy’s treat).

They’d been listening to me practice so when I hit “record” they were really over this class. Exhaling heavily they curled up in their spots to sleep.

We’re sailing along until  my mother came in. “We can’t hear you. You have dead air.” they had been hearing me, I know they had. It still showed the program was hearing my voice. I apologize to the audience. What’s the point? they can’t hear you?

When GBC heard the words “Dead air” his eyes bugged out. He darted to the computer and started slapping keys and gnawing on the screen. He rose up on his back legs and meowed at the phone. Do something! We have dead air! He’s a little high strung.

Breathing steady, Sammy got down from his resting spot. He looked at the computer screen and went through a check list in his head. Okay is this on? Yes. Okay it’s not that. Is this on? Yes. Okay not that… He’s not going to freak out until there’s a real problem. He looks up at the ceiling. Maybe that…

I move over to the right side of the room. Mom waves, you can hear me. And we’re back. Sammy steps away from the screen, but curls up by the keyboard. He’ll relax, but he’s there in case anything happens again.

I had a piece of lemon meringue pie afterwards. Sammy never asks for anything, unlike GBC who assumes you brought food upstairs for him, why else would you bring it up? GBC wasn’t impressed by the pie, but Sammy was intrigued by the meringue. It was solid, but fluffy. I broke off some meringue and put it on the plate. He sniffed it, tapped it with his paw, and then proceeded to eat it. One thing I learned in my short stint in theatre is if you can’t pay people, you better feed them. Good sound guys are hard to find so you better keep them fed.

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