Before and After

Before I do anything new, I tend to worry excessively. For instance:  a recent invitation to go out to dinner with a bunch of moms in my town. I had wanted to meet more moms, and I had been trying for some time to weasel my way in, and now I had the opportunity and I was scared shitless. Why? I don’t know. I guess I have a MINOR social phobia. Groups, particularly new groups, make me a little nervous. So i worried and I worried and then I went. I had a few cocktails and everything went splendidly , which helped my social confidence meter go up a degree  (of course, I am aware that the cocktails were needed so I later subtracted a half a degree for that).

InCosta Rica where I went on my honeymoon, I worried for days about the canopy tour. Anyone know that one? Where you ride on a cable high in the treetops? My husband really wanted me to do it, and I promised him I would and I really wanted to be more of an adventurer. I made it as far as climbing to the top of the first tree before bailing. In the rain, i walked back to our hotel room, but my husband went on. i was in the shower when he came back, beer in hand. He sat on the toilet and told me all about his adventure flying from tree to tree and he had this sort of confidence about him. As though he truly conquered something, and was glad to be alive. I was a bit envious.

Today I was all worried because I had to go record my This I Believe essay for NPR at one of Boston’s local NPR stations. I didn’t expect to be nervous, but as I drove there, my anxiety grew. What are you worrying about? I asked myself. What’s the worst that can happen? Of course, I was imagining everyone in the control room laughing at me and my silly essay and my terrible reading voice. Ridiculous! I told myself. But then, like a reflex,  I worried some more.  I did  forget about it for a moment when I got to the front door of the station and realized it was a revolving door. I don’t like revolving doors (or elevators or car washes for that matter) as I worry I will get stuck in them. Ridiculous! I told myself today. Who has ever gotten stuck in a revolving door? (If you know someone, please don’t tell me).

Anyway, I made it through the door and nto the recording room. To my surprise there was only one guy doing the recording with me and he was very kind and low key and put me completely at ease. Although I never shook my nervousness completely, I did OK. Two takes and I was done.

 When I went back out the revolving door, I was on a bit of a high, like my husband after his canopy tour. Sure, my accomplishment was only a small step out of my comfort zone and not a death defying act, but it was something.

Not to mention I would now be on NPR! THanks Skirt (and Deb for suggesting I join SKIRT), for that.