Oh, glory the times you only crack yourself up

So recently (yesterday) I was interviewing a woman I really admire. It was late at night, full moon, Mercury in Retrograde (what else are we blaming at the moment??) oh yeah, I’m pregnant and had just watched a show about antiques that was an hour long, but could have been a 15 minute ride if they had left out the 13 duuh duuuuhmmmm’s. So clearly, in retrospective I hadn't set myself up for a wam bam of an interview.

We got on the call and I went blank. Oh oh… then I messed up the introduction. You know the feeling when, as you are talking, your brain is going “Noooooo wrap it up”, but your mouth continues?

Getting past it, with somehow evolving my dialect into a thick accent of some kind, I started to warm up a little. I decided to half ass a joke about me messing up the intro and then nothing… only me laughing hard about my own fuck up. My upper lip started to sweat and I am sure I saw someone sneaking around outside the window, the dog farted and I went back into blank mode.


Most of which is going on in my head. I am sure she sensed something a little off, but nothing compared to the titanic of a melt down going on across cyberspace. 

Picking up today I have contemplated quite a few excuses as to why the interview won’t go live. But why? Too shameful to show the imperfect nature, that is me? Scared she thinks I am a total loon. Scared that you can hear the dog farting in the interview and that people will think it was me? 

Knowing, as there always is, someone will send me an email about how I could really bring it to the next level with 1 of 15 proven steps to being more professional, controlled, closer to 6 figures or what have we. 

Moving past that, it will be going live. It was real and I am making a commitment to not polishing off the sides of life that happen to all of us, just because they are horrifically unsexy. 

I am ordinary and owning it…