We want you. Of course ...

Of course ...

There’s a “Seinfeld” episode that I’ve only recently come to fully appreciate. The perpetually unemployed George Costanza goes on a job interview with a company that provides supplies to roadside rest stops. As he’s oddly wont to do, he impresses his prospective boss.

“I want you to have this job,” Mr. Tuttle tells George. “Of course” — And just then the phone rings with a call he has to take, leaving George to wonder whether he has the job. (Compounding the matter: Tuttle praised George because “I feel like I, like I don't have to explain every little thing to you. You understand everything immediately.” Like whether George actually has the job. Plus, Tuttle was leaving for a week’s vacation and George couldn’t wait that long for an answer.)

Two days after leaving The News & Observer, I was contacted by a company very much interested in sponsoring a health and fitness blog, much like the one I wrote at the paper. We had an initial discussion, which confirmed we were on the same page. We had a follow-up with the person in charge of their “social media.” That went well, too. We agreed to shoot for a June 1 launch. A contract was practically in the mail.

Of course...

The company had a significant public relations issue pop up that demanded the full attention of the people I was dealing with. It was a bonafide problem; They aren’t using it as a smokescreen to cover second thoughts and put me off. I got a “touching base” email this past week saying a contract was in the works.

I’m 95 percent sure this will happen. When it does, the delay will immediately be vanquished from memory. Until then, until there’s a contract and the contract is signed, this limbo consumes my thoughts. It’s not the only thing I think about, but it’s constantly there, somewhere, lurking beneath the surface. (Hey! You kids! Stop making so much noise!)

George, by the way, solved his problem in a truly Seinfeldian manner. He simply showed up for work the following Monday, claimed an office, closed the door and napped until the 5 o’clock whistle.