I should have expected it.
I'd been putting in long hours preparing for a big event. During it I worked multiple fourteen-hour days. I needed a break, but I came home primed to accomplish great things.
I plunged back into my work. Projects whose deadlines I'd had to juggle awaited me.
I was ripe for discouragement. It came.
The email struck like a torpedo below my waterline. A big project — one I'd nurtured and labored over — was dead. Any project entails a risk. The higher your hopes, the more painful their demise.
I turned to a colleague, who commiserated with me. It hurts, but it happens. You can quit or you can learn what you can and move on.
Yesterday afternoon as I grieved, I realized I couldn't afford to nurture that grief. If I let it sprout, worse things will grow.
So today I'm back at the keyboard. I've made good progress on a couple of pending projects, gotten yet more discouraging news, and written this. Now I'll get back to work.
Expecting to accomplish great things? Watch out.