My initial off-the-cuff response was "fear," but that wasn't something I wanted to write down to (a) share with my co-workers, some of whom would undoubtedly use it for their own gain, or (b) put out into the universe in general to invite more into my psyche. A moment's introspection revealed a second response that I could live with more easily: "encouragement." I figured that, in the carrot-and-stick realm of high tech, this was a more benign response, one which would soon be forgotten, insubstantial as a Hallmark clich�. The meeting ended eventually and I'd not had reason to think about it again until today.

In the past week, I've had the good fortune to discover an unlikely ally. He's a proud and savvy troll, even somewhat renowned; also a co-worker elsewhere in the organizational chart. Yesterday's spontaneous email confessional was a passionate attempt to explain why I'm a neurotic perfectionist. Suspecting that I'm perceived as being an oh-so-politically-correct-diversified-workforce-chick-tech-wannabe" more often than I'd prefer (or worse yet, just another example of "the Peter Principle" in action) can push me harder than anything else. Several hours into a particularly hellish day I tripped across his rather un-troll-like response:

Intuition and good troubleshooting skills are actually more important than "knowing your shit" in this industry. Knowledge becomes obsolete, but problem-solving skills never do. The recipe for genius is to practice art with the care and deliberation of a scientist and science with the intuition and creative passion of an artist. I know that you know this. I've seen you practice it.

Rarely am I caught off-guard; these words floored me with all the force of a sucker punch. I've posted them to my cattle-pen wall to taste whenever sustenance is needed.

(Even trolls can inspire, surprise and delight.)