Friday, September 30, 2011

on some pride

I had my first writing class on Monday night.  I was so irrationally nervous.  I knew this was supposed to be fun, that I was a willing participant, but I couldn't talk myself down from the nerves.  My face felt flush and I spent about twenty minutes taking deep breaths before the teacher finally came in.  It didn't help that I got there over a half hour early.  

I was most nervous about the in class assignments and of reading them out loud.  On the spot.  With no editing.  I have never tried fiction before, I've only ever written about myself.  But I tried.  And at five to ten I realized that I'd kick myself all week if I didn't participate, so I volunteered to read what I had just written.  And nothing terrible happened.  Instead, the guy next to me actually said, "that was good".  

As I get older I feel like there are fewer times where I am able to be really proud of myself.  Growing up there were recitals and big exams and school plays and graduations.  Now something good happens every once and a while at work that's my doing, but that doesn't feel like much.  Monday night I felt proud.  It may be a small thing, but I'll take it.

bird's eye view, random photo for a Friday


  1. Yay, good for you. I think I might have let myself off the hook for participating if that was me. Be proud! Maybe share some of what you write here?

  2. Thanks for the encouragement, I have my first homework assignment (just 500 words) due Monday, maybe I'll post here before presenting it to the class later that night! And there is the panic again, deep breaths, deep breaths.