My mind is blank. Today was a bit crazy, driving an hour to sell our van, spending the day with a friend who was willing to drive me an hour home, being totally paranoid that the guy would offer us a ridiculously low amount and my time would have been wasted, being excited that he offered a good price, blah blah blah.
Some people have days like that and act as if it’s no big deal. But it drains me.
So as I sit here and feel like I have nothing to write, I have decided that I’ll share what’s been on my mind, almost constantly, since last weekend.
I’m going! It is the first ever blogging conference/summit put on by Savvy Bloggers, a group made up of women whom I greatly admire as bloggers. An application was required and they accepted 60 people. I never thought I would get accepted, but I did. I’m very excited.
Now, just like with the car-selling, I tend to get worked up over stuff. I imagine all possible scenarios, both the best and the worst.
What if no one will talk to me? What if I can’t find the right room for a session? What if I wear jeans and everyone else is in a dress? Those are my normal neurotic thoughts that I can talk myself through. Everyone has insecurities. I generally solve these problems by being pro-active. I’ll initiate conversation so that I have someone to talk to. I’ll study my book/whatever and find all the right rooms the night before so I’ll know where to go and will be able to help someone else and hopefully make a friend that way. I’ll try to ask around to know what to wear.
But this is on an entirely new level. This is a blogging summit. I’m guessing everyone’s opening question will be, “So, what’s your blog about?”
And my blog? It’s about my deepest, darkest secret. That I’m a slob.
IRL (I’ve been trying to do twitter lately – and that means “in real life”), I get to know people without them having any idea about my secret. I’m pretty friendly and open, but it rarely comes up in the first few months whether or not I hang up my clothes every night or throw them on the floor.
See, most people, even people who know me well, are surprised to learn that I’m a slob. Most are completely shocked if they finally get to the point where I feel completely accepted by them and they’re allowed into my home at its worst. They generally know the germaphobe part of me, and so it’s very hard for them to grasp the slob part.
But I’m going to be meeting people who will know that about me before they know ME. And honestly, it scares me to death. What if they aren’t willing to get to know me because they can’t help but judge me by the word “slob” in the title of my blog? I really debated when I started this blog about using the word slob. I tried my best to think of another way to put it. A way that wouldn’t sound as bad. I hadn’t been willing, ever before, to truly admit to myself out loud, that I was actually a slob. But I decided that if I was going to do this, and if it was truly going to achieve its purpose of helping me to change, I had to be honest. Brutally honest. No more excuses or making things seem not-so-bad.
And I’m so glad I did. I’m incredibly grateful that my home has made huge strides since August. I see hope that this change will be permanent.
And I want the blog to grow. I want to learn how to do it right, and maybe someday, if I can truly get my own act together, I can help someone else.
I’d like to close this post with a profound statement showing that although I have these feelings, I’ve had a lightbulb moment that has helped me get past them. But I can’t. Not yet.
I’ll be fine, and as it gets closer, I’m sure I’ll gear my mind up and be ready to throw myself into the experience, learning lots of great information, and meeting some really fantastic people. But for now, my stomach kinda hurts.