Over happy-hour margaritas recently, my dear friend and wise confidant Lea Ann coaxed from me my candid feelings about a situation that has become one of the largest distractions and sources of anxiety of my career. It has to do with a client that, it would seem, has decided not to pay me. I use the words “it would seem” because I don’t actually know. My contact at the client organization has not returned my emails, voicemails or text messages for months. I received only silence during the project term, forcing me to work in a bubble, often guessing what was needed. And I’ve received only silence since in response to my pleas for payment status.
I confessed to Lea Ann that the situation has rocked me, that I am at a loss as to why, and that I am oddly embarrassed that I am so disrupted. (I mean, no one’s life is on the line, after all.) I have even neglected this blog for fear of revealing the negativity born of this adversity.
You see, my point of contact at the client organization, the person who has ignored me for months, is a close professional friend – someone with whom I have worked regularly and for whom I have considerable affection. Upon hearing all of this, Lea Ann was instantly able to explain. “You are a relationship guy,” she said. ”You create and cultivate them; it is your trade and currency. To have that compromised by someone you trust, particularly in the form of deafening silence, is a high offense to your worldview.”
The light bulb came on instantly. This client owes me $15,000, according to our written agreement. That’s ample money to grouse over. But I’ve already piffled away far more than $15,000 in hours of static bewilderment and sleepless nights. At least now I understand why.
In Kinkennon Communications’ five years of existence, this is not the first time I have dealt with unpaid invoices. It’s not even the first time that the person on the other end was a friend. But in that past example, the friend was swift and sure in dealing with the unwanted turn: “The company has run out of money. If you are to be paid at all, I need you to accept a settlement. This is beyond humiliating for me. I offer no excuses for my contribution to this unfortunate predicament. I am simply, terribly sorry.” It was painful, but the friendship survived.
In this current situation, I’ve received no such courtesy. Is the organization out of money? Are they somehow dissatisfied with my company’s work? I’ve said repeatedly that I’m willing to hear any of those things and work diligently toward a solution. But I hear only silence.
What all of this has revealed are the trials associated with the defining characteristic of a career that is focused on relationships first. That characteristic is trust. And it would seem it should not be doled out lightly. It’s a rattling and probably overdue lesson.
I’m continuing to try to collect what is owed. At the same time, I am intensely focused on staying grounded. Payment issues are part of doing business. They will always sting. But what I am learning is that it is downright poisonous to take them personally.
Dollar sign photo courtesy of Nedral via a Flickr creative commons license. Handshake photo courtesy of Mark Ireland via a Flickr creative commons license.