I’ll let you in on a little secret about myself. Do with it what you will.
I worry a good bit. Maybe I don’t worry as much as my lovely wife does, but then again, I’m not the one married to me.
Still, I get pretty nervous in new situations. I’m better than I used to be, when I was a hot mess. But 15 years of being in media has helped me get past many of the pre-jitters jitters.
I think you need an example. And I’ve got a doozy. Let’s say me, average 36-year-old guy, was given the opportunity to relax – in the middle of a work day, no less – at a luxurious resort spa. And not just any spa. The Spa at Pinehurst — one of the best resort spas in the nation.
For most people, they would’ve jumped at an opportunity like this the moment they were given the green light. Me? I took my foot off the gas kind of hoping the light would turn to yellow.
The Roman Catholic I am, however wishy-washy I may be decades past Confirmation, I knew going in I had enough of a hurdle just to get over the guilt of taking in the Spa while others in my department worked. “Oh, so the new guy gets to the go to the Spa under the guise of gathering a marketing sense of the place. Yeah, surrrre.” That was the line going through my head, over and over in a “Call Me, Maybe” maddening spiral of repetition. (Oh c’mon! This link isn’t nearly as bad as the others! Go ahead...click.)
The guilt is no small thing. But I could dumb myself past that. “This is for work.” Say that to yourself enough times, and eventually you’ll become convinced that this is all good.
But there was more. Another lingering feeling.
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