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.