It’s that time of year where the weather is getting nicer and the school work is piling up. Which means since I already have so much piling up I shouldn’t be taking even more on. But since when have I ever tried to make things easier for myself? I’ve always been the girl who wrote stories when she was supposed to be writing essays.
The writer-at-residence I’ve been seeing for my writing workshop is holding a reading on Thursday. She’s reading from her own work, and she invited others to read. And I agreed to. Don’t ask me why I agreed, considering I’m terrified of speaking in front of my classes during presentations, but I agreed and now, on Thursday, I am going to have a five minute slot to share my own written words with the world. And I have absolutely no idea what it is I wanted to read. Part of me wants to find something that represents my very best work, part of me wants to share what everyone will love and relate to the most, and part of me wants to share what represents me–as a writer and as a person–best.
Now if only I could find someone which captures all three, and I would be set.
I did consider writing something brand new for Thursday, but with two assignments, and two quizzes this week, the changes of that happening are pretty slim. Not impossible, but slim. So now on top of all that, I have to try and go through my old work and find me in words. Find a story which will awe and amaze. Which will show that small room who I am when it comes to writing. And try not to pass out while I’m standing in front of everyone. Oh yes, if I didn’t already have enough on my plate. Again, why do I do this to myself?
In the end, I know it will be okay. And I will have faced another one of my greatest fears–public speaking. But right now I have a million and one things rushing through my head, and no idea what I should do, what I should read, and if I’m even going to make it to Thursday before having a mental breakdown.
And I haven’t even began to think about what I’m going to wear.