April 7, 1989

Doug Greene called me to say he’d woken up with the night sweats and paced until dawn and finally came to the conclusion that he can’t do it after all. I talked him down and offered a six-week trial period, at the end of which he can decide whether or not to take on the whole job. That, he agreed to.

Shit. I’ve spent all week on this, and now all I’ve got is a “maybe.” I need to find a backup.

Posted on Apr 7, 1989 in Old Journals | 0 comments

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