What Does the Term "Groundhog Day" Mean To You?

Salut!

A cryptic beginning for the day, hey? Ever watch the film Groundhog Day, possibly Bill Murray's greatest remembered role ever, next to the whacked out dude from Caddyshack, or perhaps his ghost-butt-kicking playboy role in Ghostbusters? The executive summary for Groundhog Day is simple: a journalist gets caught in a surreal world where Groundhog Day happens day after day, and no matter what happens or what he does, he'll wake up the next day, the calender not having advanced, and have to do it all again.

This particular film has taken on a good deal more meaning to me in the last few months. Why? you ask (or perhaps not... I've no idea if there's anyone even reading this), why would you say this type of space-time continuum conundrum has personal meaning for you?

The answer is simple: I've been involved in my own personal Groundhog Day for a period of days, weeks, and now months, waiting for an event to happen (the proverbial "Tomorrow!") and which has been continually assured to be, in all actuality, "Tomorrow". Just take a moment, and let me paint you a picture.

Imagine you have a very, very good idea; something that is worth a certain amount of money, something that is fairly big, in terms of scale and exposure. Imagine that this idea could possibly mean long-term employment, and a more comfortable life, provided you put in a bit of hard work in the meantime. Imagine that you take this idea as far as you can on your own resources, and having made it moderately successful, decide to take it to the next level. Imagine that you pitch your idea to the right people, through the right channels, and it is well received.

"Don't worry," they tell you, "This is a terribly good idea, and we are happy to help you take this to the next level, immediately and forthwith."

And then, you ask them: "When will you start helping me?"

"Tomorrow."

And tomorrow. And tomorrow. Ad nauseum.

I have, I can tell you, spent the last 5 months hearing "Tomorrow" on a daily basis. This has generally meant every day has been a series of missed deadlines, unanswered phonecalls, non-existent meetings, and press conferences that I am very well prepared for, but which never happen.

Words cannot describe the surreality of it. My day (used to) begin with an early rise, in preparation for a meeting between the hours of 9 and 11 AM. The inevitable phonecall comes in at 11:30, when I find out that the meeting has been rescheduled for somewhere between 2 and 4 PM (and never happens). After Wednesdays, it's a toss up between "It'll be tomorrow, sorry for the delay" and "Monday next week, I promise you, this is the final date." After a couple of months, you begin to wonder "Gosh, is it possible this is all a bad dream?" and you begin to wonder "Is it possible my dwindling bank account will become critically low before this actually comes to pass??"

And that is exactly what comes of it. You're forced to postpone the dream idea, the moonshot, that idea which got you out of bed on all of those mornings and look for another job. I never would have gone so long without steady employment, but for a continual chorus of "Tomorrow!!" egging me on to further self-destruction and financial ruin; and what do you tell a prospective employer?

"Says here on your resume, Looch, you've been self-employed for the last couple of years; what kinds of things were you doing?"

"That's a good question, Mr. The Man, I'm actually waiting for an answer, its due 'Tomorrow!', I may not actually be able to work for you, should I get this position."

:rolleyes:

All fine and dandy, I suppose. Do you know, I started to write this column this morning (at work, my new job, with an understanding employer who knows part of the reason I hold onto a dream of 'Tomorrow!' and what part of the hold-ups are; it is now 11:30 PM local, 12 hours later) and ended up spending the day in meetings which got postponed, on a day when the cheque announcing the beginning of the launch of the dream idea was due, and when the dusk settles, guess when the cheque will actually be forthcoming?

Tomorrow.

I swear, I have heard that chorus so much since May, I am strongly considering running away and joining a Broadway cast for a production of "Annie!"

The moral of my story, for anyone who cares to listen: use invectives early and frequently when your prospective partners use too much "Tomorrow". You have nothing to lose.