Excuse me for blogging too much, for only talking about newspapers, and for being me.
Every once in a while (read: everyday) I get a little too cocky and life feeds me some humility cookies. Instead of tasting like raisins or chocolate chips, they taste like those cookies I made when I was 6, when I used 4 tablespoons of baking soda instead of teaspoons.
Today I was feeling pretty good, with my hair step-braided and what not. Went to all of my classes, got a great interview with the director of the health center. Got on a bus to go to a news meeting.
And then I ate some humble cookies. As the meeting started and stories were being passed out, I kept thinking about the accursed book story. I would almost take one, then my thought pattern would go like this:
1. That story is too big for you
2. You’ll bomb it
3. Remember that story going in tomorrow? It will sound like that
4. Wait for a smaller one
As you can probably imagine, this thought process is not very effective. In fact, I didn’t get a story, and then I felt like dumb. I kvetched for a while, and then came to the conclusion that if I really want to do something, I should take it head on, rather than from the sidelines. The past couple weeks, I’ve been in wimp mode or something.
Another humble cookie? Every time my phone buzzes, I hope for a half-second it’s the person that I want it to be. And then it’s twitter. Or the bus. Seriously, I text the bus more than other contact in my phone.
So I’ll sit and listen to Adele. And ponder how I’m going to be better. But not for too long, because as great as my mind is, it doesn’t get me anywhere unless my feet move too.