I just sat down to write a blog post. The post was going to be about how the last thing I wanted to do was write a blog post. For me, that means it must be the first thing that I do this morning. I was going to tell you about how I got up feeling like crap, wanting to cry. I made the bed, took a shower and made an iced coffee, then wondered “What am I going to do with this day?”
I sat down and thought about yesterday. Yesterday I had a great meeting. Meeting sounds so workish. Let’s not call it that. Encounter? That sounds so mysterious. Ok so two dudes and a chick walk into Starbucks…
Post Intermission: Wait…my house phone is ringing. No one has that number but my mother-in-law.
Have you read me tweets? I am NOT answering that.
But I digress.
So I go to Starbucks to meet with an old friend from my previous job, and someone he is going to introduce me to. The old friend is Jim and the person to be met is Tim Tyrell-Smith (@TimsStrategy). Tim is an author, speaker, job seeking coach, and what I would call a life path or career path coach. When I googled him before the meeting I wished I had googled him much sooner. I wanted to know a lot more about him before the meeting than I learned in the two days I gave myself. I am already nervous about meeting new people, but new people with thousands and thousands of twitter followers, a published book and in high demand for speaking gigs. Well shit, way out of my professional league.
If you know me, you know that I have social anxiety, severe agoraphobia, and I am directionally hopeless. To combat that I get up early, get ready and get out the door early. I arrive early, and that is just fine by me. I can get myself situated, and not in any kind of social situation where I might do something really lame.
I looked good despite that level 8 pain raging through my system, and the intense migraine. The panic attack was settling into a dull roar of screams in my head. Groovy. I can totally do this. I even found a decent parking space, which isn’t easy at this particular center.
Post Intermission: OMG I just answered the phone, it was a fax machine. Can you believe I answered the phone? Another phobia of mine, the phone!
Digressing again, shocking.
So wow. What a great time. I learned a lot about me, I learned about Tim. I learned about some goals I need to set… maybe some I need to not set. Tim had checked out the blog too. He had a lot of great questions for me to consider as I determine what my next steps will be. As I answer them I may be deciding if I need more of his help too. I just don’t know yet.
I was shocked when I realized how long we sat there. Tim had some magic key to the parts of my head I didn’t know about. He knew that I wasn’t really ready and may never be ready to go out on a big job search again. That I was probably in need of something less structured than an office. I am a writer, I am creative. I also have to decide what I want to do with Chronically Awesome, if anything. Maybe it should be left to continue it’s amazing growth on it’s own?
I want time to work on my writing, to have the freedom to blog and perhaps even take my writing to a more formal place. Maybe something in between. Use my blog as the meat of a book that I stitched together with through pieces. People more famous and interesting to me have done it, but are they as “real” as me?
But here is the part about the cry cry I had this morning. I call it a cry cry because they always take on a couple of faces. I start off one way and it turns into something else. First the cry is for whatever I am crying about, then the cry is for whatever I should have ever cried about and didn’t. I go a bit nuts. So, I call it a cry cry. It’s a double cry.
Tim mentioned that he read my “About” page, which I assume at least a few people have. Ok, so I know exactly how many of you have because I have the numbers. Even though I wrote it, and have re-written it a couple of times, I went back to remind myself what it said to get a picture of what he was going into this meeting with. To get a picture of what people were thinking of me when the started reading about me. (PS: you should have an about page on your blog, and it should be written with that in mind and kept fresh with regular rewrites).
As I read it, the tears started to trickle down my cheeks, just a little at first, as the memories came back. The memories about what made me write the about in the way that I did. Then, as I got to the bottom I found myself actually getting excited, I found myself being my own cheerleader. I got fan girl on the Chronically Awesome idea. It was like I wrote it to inspire myself. At that point I got the second cry going, the slightly laugh while you cry thing. The one that makes me feel a bit goofy but good. Not my usual second cry.
When I was done I read the first paragraph again, the reason why I do this. First and foremost I do it for me. I hope, of course, that someone is getting SOMETHING out of this. If I am whistling in the dark, I hope I am whistling a familiar tune and it is resonating somewhere. If not, at least I can give myself a cry cry now and again.I know I am not alone. I know my tune bounces off the eardrums of others and they recognize some of the notes. All the other little birds have been singing with me. The sky is full of these songs and we are coming out of the dark in such a cool way.Shit, I am crying again.
A note from March 25th, 2014: Today I am posting this on my blog, and reading it again. It’s been awhile since I read this entry. It was one of my highest ranked posts on the old site and I am curious to see how it goes here. I am going to go and read my new “about” page after this. I think it is far less personal and “cute”, but one of the changes in m life since that July afternoon when I met Tim, when I wrote this post: my memory is shot to shit. I sincerely do not remember what is on my about page. Ok my friends, stay Chronically Awesome. 🙂