Last night I asked my boyfriend if he got nervous on the first day of a job, he thought about it a second and finally cheerfully resolved, "Nope!". Fantastic. He generally likes meeting new people and is good with them, and he said that being new gives you, "at least for the first month", a sort of justification for screwing-up every once in a while.
There it is. The idea of "screwing-up", justified or otherwise, makes my stomach turn. It gives me the same sensation I get before I'm about to do something profoundly unpleasant... like cleaning someone else's toilet or catching a huge bug in a tissue on the ceiling right over your head. The kinds of things that, right before you actually do them, you ask yourself, "seriously... is this *absolutely* necessary?".
Yup. The answer is yes. How atrocious.
I often wonder if my claustrophobia is at the core of my fear of failure. As if taking a risk were on par with nailing myself inside a small wooden box and waiting for the tide to come in. What a dark metaphor! Do they make an herbal tea for remedying figurative-phobias??
Phew. All melodrama and insecurity aside, the the yang in me is pretty darn delighted by the opportunities ahead. And this weather is amazing-
Wish me luck!
"The Last Meal":
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