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State of Flow: Declining An Offer::journal

Declining An Offer

Lance Walton - Friday January 20, 2012

It is with regret that I must decline the opportunity that your esteemed corpulence has seen fit to bestow upon my unworthy person.

It is with regret that I must decline the opportunity that your esteemed corpulence has seen fit to bestow upon my unworthy person. In a paltry attempt to explain myself, please allow me to describe the circumstances leading to the majestic offer of which I am surely undeserving.

If my account below is incorrect in details it is only because, as you have frequently told me, the connate lack of social skills and linguistic abilities with which my lowly calling is concommitant prevents me from correctly expressing the ideas as they alight upon my mind.

So it was that some time ago, your august self formed a team of individuals, skilled in their craft but nevertheless naturally inferior to yourself in every respect – the truth of which you demonstrate liberally to our inconsequential delight. When your profound vision was explained to us with the clarity and concision for which you are universally admired, the team thought that such a monument surely could not be achieved within the time painstakingly and precisely calculated by methods inscrutable to us all. How clamourous must have been our voiced dismay. How cacophonous it must have seemed to one who certainly would be more used to the harmonious cantabile of the angels he normally hears.

However, your experience and faith held you fast. You explained in your characteristic kind and caring way that all obstacles could be overcome, all details manifested correctly, if only we pulled together as a team, understood the wider issues (even though you must surely know that we lack the mental faculties for this perception) and adhered to your Plan.

As we gathered the fruits grown from the seeds exactlingly laid out by your precise hand, the harvest was found to be wanting according to the measures set out by your theodolitic precognition. You did not waver from your destiny. Those lesser members of the team, which naturally must include everyone save your regal self (who can be described only with the most superlative expressions), again were unable to comprehend the depth of your vision. But even as we appeared to drift further from your prescription, you held fast, believing in your ability to bring about this miracle. How, after all, could we fail with a captain such as yourself at the helm; one for whom Poseidon himself would surely calm the most stormy waters.

With only six weeks left until the day upon which your labour reached its inevitable term (for it is your labour – the team members under you being merely cogs in your fearsome machine), I am ashamed to say that I too, inadequate as I am, buckled. How could I have doubted your abilities? How could I have suggested that you, with your unparalleled occular verity, must surely see my truth. Kindly, you ignored such blasphemy, upon which I compounded my impudence by daring to predict that your hitherto uncorruptable stance must surely be adjusted not later than three weeks before the appointed date, at which time the truth (once again, my truth. Oh! The arrogance) would surely be seen by all and that your unsubstantiated verisimilitude would be exposed. And this was not the first or last time that I spoke above my station. Indeed it was almost a daily occurrence, thus demonstrating how underserving I am of even the patronage you show me almost every time we speak.

Of course I was wrong. How could it be any other way? It was in fact not three weeks, but a mere two weeks before your canon would reach its cadence that you finally revealed the full, breathtaking audacity of your concept. Although your every word is like a shining nugget of gold in the mud of my existence, I am sure they will not glister less should I conscientiously repeat your conceit, which would be spoiled should I attempt to phrase them in my own inept and vulgar terms:

Perhaps you should think of this as an opportunity for you to work evenings and weekends

I am certain that the very universe turns merely so that you could, one day, bring forth these sparkling diamonds of cognitive excellence.

Perhaps you should think of this as an opportunity for you to work evenings and weekends

To my shame, upon hearing your lustrous pearls, I reacted angrily, only bothered by my own meager concerns. My wife. My child. Sleep. My selfish personal interests which are, rightly of course, as nothing to you.

And that brings me to the recapitulation of my rhapsody. I would dearly love to demonstrate my loyalty to your opus. The furtherance of your illustrious career is without doubt the most important thing in my otherwise paltry existence. However, I find that my services, inadequate as they are, are now apparently required elsewhere. Sadly, therefore, my evenings and weekends remain my own to fill with activities that are assuredly petty and insubstantial in your percipient consideration.

With all due respect, etc.