That is not how you do it, by the way. Do as I say, not as I do.
Have you seen my Twitter feed lately? I am the most boring woman on the Internet. I am this close to tweeting about Starbucks coffee and tasty lunch spots, except that I never actually go to coffee or lunch anymore, because I have adjusted my work schedule so I can work straight through lunch and leave at four to be with the boys, except I never actually leave at four anymore, because OH MY GOD SEE? SO BORING! I AM SO BORING! GOD, HELP ME WITH THE BORING.
(NOTE TO SELF: THE CAPS LOCK KEY IS NOT HELPING. IT ACTUALLY MAKES YOUR BORING LOOK BIGGER.)
So, I’ve taken on a new role at work, and ever since, I’ve been ricocheting back and forth between manic enthusiasm and debilitating insecurity. Yay! Let’s do this I CAN’T DO THIS sure you can, you’re good at it NO YOUR STOOPID oopsie, you spelled “you’re” wrong, hee hee SEE I TOLD YOU! I’M A MORON! A MORON AND A FRAUD!
My new business cards came in yesterday, and they are EMBOSSED WITH GOLD FOIL, which makes it all look very official, and truly, I must say, having the word director in my title is not good. Not good at all. Makes me nervous. Leads to questions. Namely, WHO IS GOING TO FIX THE INTERNET WHEN I BREAK IT?
So I ignore the title and focus on the work, but OH MY GOD, THE WORK. I'll be honest. I don't always know how to do it. And it doesn't help that every day my RSS feed is overflowing with blog articles like "900 New Tech Tools You Can't Live Without!" and "Nine Reasons Why Monday's Facebook Changes Will No Longer Be Relevant on Wednesday". I feel like I'm in a constant state of FIGURING SHIT OUT, and shouldn't I just KNOW how to do everything by now? And then I start to cry.
I keep going back to this great TED Talk by Elizabeth Gilbert in which she says “… don’t be afraid. Don’t be daunted. Just do your job. Continue to show up for your piece of it, whatever that might be. If your job is to dance, do your dance. If the divine, cockeyed genius assigned to your case decides to let some sort of wonderment be glimpsed, for just one moment through your efforts, then ‘Ole!’ And if not, do your dance anyhow. And ‘Ole!’ to you nonetheless.”
So, yes, that.
Ole to me!
I’m going to try to make it back here more often too, regardless of whether the cockeyed genius assigned to my case decides to let me make funny or just KEEP BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST THE CAPS LOCK KEY.
In the meantime, you know what I would love? I would love it if you would tell me that you too have felt inept and unworthy in the face of your work at times EVEN IF YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT UP, PLEASE, THANK YOU.