Halloween Potluck!

It sounded innocuous enough, but when I saw the notice come across my work email address, I dreaded it. Forced social interaction with attorneys and secretaries and all of the personalities of the people I work with. Now, they're all nice people. Some are very funny and very nice.

But.

There's something weird about it for me. I (with so much help from Dinah) spent time Tuesday night making up pumpkin bread to bring as my contribution. The whole time I'm mixing it up, I'm thinking about what I'm going to say. Wondering whether I could be funny or if I should just try to get through it quietly. I was seriously anxious about it.

I used to be so confident. I think. (I could be misremembering it, trying to think there's this ideal me out there that I lost track of.) But, I don't think so. I think I used to really have a lot of confidence in the feeling of who I am. I was never a social butterfly (and I probably never will be), but I didn't get anxious about having to talk with people.

So. Where did I lose that confidence? And how do I get it back?

For the first question, I don't know, really. I have my ideas, but it probably wouldn't help to go into it now. As for getting it back, well. I guess I just gotta jump in and start doing some of these things that I am not sure I can. And not be too hard on myself when I fail.

God, that's one thing I've got to change. Because after the Potluck yesterday, I thought about the couple comments I made. How I could've timed them better. How I could've said something more here or there. Gauging the laughs and whether they were big, or whether they were just polite. And yeah, it's a potluck with co-workers whose opinion of me matters only a little bit. This level of scrutiny is not healthy for me. I gotta give myself room to fuck up.

On this and on the bigger things that I'm procrastinating on. (Like my writing).

Choices...

Everyday I navigate through my day mostly trying to avoid any hassles or snags that might make me feel bad. I get of the El (in Chicago) and I try to walk at the right speed to catch all of the traffic lights so I don't have time to stop and think about why it is I am headed to work. Wearing and iPod helps distract me if there is a momentary delay in my getting to work, setting my bag down, sticking my lunch in the fridge getting a bowl for my granola and filling up my water glass, before I sit at my desk and start my day.
Then I start the routine of pushing myself through the moments trying to balance the momentary of my work with my need to be seen as good at what I do--even if I don't respect what I do.
And when that's through, I try to sail through the lights, back the way I came and try to manage to get a seat on the train (or at least a spot to stand where no one is jostling me with their bags or hips). I listen to some Springsteen and mostly try to think about what I need to do to be a writer or lose weight or improve myself in one form or another.
That is the bulk of my day. And I can't say that I really like it. So, I'll spend whatever time I have left trying to make myself happy, which sometimes works. Don't get me wrong, there are great bright spots in my life. My fiancée (Dinah), my friends, what have you. But for so long, I've felt sort of like a spectator--waiting for the right moment to come along and seize me in a moment and change everything for me, while all the while I've made the same choices in a redundant cycle of self-flagellation (to state it dramatically).
I'm not sure if I didn't see the other choices or if I see them now, even. But. That's what this blog will be about. Finding the other choices and trying to make myself happier, day-to-day.

In short--it's gonna be incredibly narcissistic.