Veruca Salt, if you recall, is the girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory who always gets her way: "I want a golden ticket, Daddy, and I want it NOW." When I lived in New York there was actually a deli guy that nicknamed me Veruca, because I was so particular about my sandwich. 

There was also a guy who hit on me from a manhole in the middle of Park Avenue, a plumber named Carmine from Queens who kept saying "So, ya wanna get tagetha, or what?", and a crazy Moroccan bastard who threw my television against the wall. But, I digress. Those are different stories for a different day. 

Generally, I am not known for being a low-maintenance individual. I pretty much want what I want, and now, please and thank you. Years ago, before I went to work at Carmichael Lynch in Minneapolis, the mandatory shrink evaluation for all new employees concluded in my case that I am "too independent and entrepreneurial to function in the confines of a corporate organization." Yet, somehow, 20 years into my career people still consider me employable. It never ceases to amaze me. 

It's not that I can't be a "team player". I like collaborating, blah blah blah. I know there are lots of smart people in the world/room. I talk on my blog about knowing I'm not the smartest person in the room, but sometimes, that's kind of bullshit frankly. Sometimes I am the smartest person in the room on a given topic. And yes, other times I am not. But in the cases where I am, and I actually do know what the hell I am talking about, I would like to be able to make a fast decision without negotiating endlessly. If there was a Facebook fan page for Committees and Formal Processes, I would not be a fan. 

Which means I am entering the biggest challenge of my career. I suddenly find myself part of a team of five partners needing to build "buy-in", if not actual consensus. (I learned yesterday that there is a difference. "Buy-in" doesn't have to mean you agree, it just means you can live with the decision.)

Can I, Veruca Salt, actually do this? 

Can I grow the massive reserves of patience necessary to fully hear out four other individuals without interruption, on a routine basis, for the sake of having a vote? Can I rise above the destiny foretold by the aforementioned shrink, and function happily within "the confines of a corporate organization", however horizontal it may be? Or am I destined to emerge with nothing but more gray hair, deeper wrinkles, and a bloody forehead from beating it against the wall?