I clicked on a link, and clicked on another, and read about an event, that sounded super cool, and I replied that I’d be there, and promptly forgot about it. An event for Bay Area bloggers. Fun, right? Free wine and networking, what could be better? A chance to meet some big influential bloggers, key for my fledgling business! A night out in the big city, how glamorous!
So why do I suddenly want to hurl?
What sounded like fun three weeks ago now makes me want to curl into a tight little ball and hum until Thurday passes and I can get up Friday morning and get on with my regular life.
I’m assailed by all the usual doubts and my brain has gone into hyper-paranoid drive. I’m a small time blogger, that’s no place for me. I won’t know anyone, who will I talk to? I don’t have any business cards, so it’s going to be a waste of time anyway. I have to drive all the way to San Francisco all by myself, gah. What if no one liiiikkkeeeess meeeeee? Whahhhh.
I keep telling myself that it’s going to be OK. That I’ll know at least one or two people, and that I’ll meet tons of new bloggers. That, in my experience, bloggers tend to be uber welcoming and friendly. That I can print up a few business cards at home. That if I ever want to stop being a small time blogger I have to get myself out there. And damn it, I’m a grown-up. Grown-ups do grown-up things like go to parties and meet people and the world doesn’t stop spinning. Right? No one is going to point their fingers at me and giggle. People just don’t do that. Right? Right?
And I think my rational brain is winning. I just wish it could talk my stomach into unclenching. You know, just a bit.