Friday morning hits like a freight train. My alarm barely registers, buzzing in a haze of caffeine and exhaustion. Three cups of coffee, two panic attacks, and a brain fried to mush—yet somehow, I’m still alive. Barely.

The Portland presentation folder weighs like a brick in my bag, each page memorized until the numbers blur. I’ve rehearsed every line in my head, every potential question, every slide’s flow. If I falter now, it won’t just be embarrassing—it’ll be catastrophic. ...