I’m feeling like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Do y’all know what I mean?
I’ve got the jitters.
My belly is full of butterflies.
I’ve got cold feet.
That’s right, I am nervous.
In 3 days, I order the rest of the equipment needed to start the Where the Dogwood Blooms podcast. Next week, I follow up on interview invites and start scheduling discussions. After that comes recording.
I’ve known this was coming for months. Yet I woke up this morning wondering how I got myself into this.
What was I thinking? I have no idea. I’m a worrier. An overthinker.
Writing is my comfort zone. Give me something to research, a little white noise, and solitude – my mind hyperfocuses. Those hours spent lost in a blank page are pure bliss.
Public speaking? Yikes. That’s a nightmare. It opens you up – and exposes raw nerves out loud. There is no backspace for the spoken word.
So here I sit, like a long-tailed cat, because of something I got myself into.
Am I gonna quit before I even get started? No. Mama raised a foul-mouthed, fiery, opinionated ball of anxiety – but she didn’t raise no quitter.
Besides, the whole point behind starting the podcast is to find a whole new way to celebrate life in North Carolina, share new stories, and explore the viewpoints of other natives.
Someone pass me a Xanax. The show will go on.