In the 22 years that I have graced the world with my presence, I have not once willingly let my thoughts be open to the public. Whenever I start a journal, I write in it for a few days, stop writing, and then months later go back and rip out every previous entry because I do not like what I have written. Because of this, my life has become a bunch of crumpled up pieces of paper lying at the bottom of a garbage bag. The fact that I started writing a blog available to anyone who has a dial-up connection baffles me, and I am still trying to figure out why I am doing it. As I am writing this, I’m assuming that the reason I am openly sharing my thoughts to anyone with a remedial knowledge of the internet stems from the fact that I do not feel comfortable sharing my writing easily with anyone, and if I ever want to grow, I need to get over that. Also, I guess I want a record of my life; one that does not involve a notebook with ripped out pages. Don’t get me wrong, this blog is nowhere near the great diarists that have come before me. You won’t see me writing about how I was locked in a hidden room behind a bookcase trying to stay away from the Germans, or outlining how I plan to kill the sixteenth president, but I know (or hope) there is more to me than what I allow you all to see in my daily life. As the cliché ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ goes, maybe there is more to me than the synopsis on my back cover that I allow everyone to read.
Anyway, in less than a week, I will be leaving the tiny La Crosse community I know and love so much for the glamour (not sure if that’s the right word), of our Nation’s Capitol. As of right now, I’ve been trying to do things to keep my mind off of it because every time I think about leaving a place I am so comfortable in, I get all jittery and nervous. I’ve been told in the past that I do not deal well with change, but I’m not quite sure if I agree with that; I actually really like change. I hate being in the same place for a long period of time and if it were up to me, I would pack up a suitcase full of clothes and live hotel to hotel as I travel the world. Not very many people know this about me, but I’m fine living with next to nothing as long as I am enjoying the life I am living. I’m not nervous to go to DC because I have only spent one week there during my senior year of high school, but because I am scared that the people I work with will ask me to do something I do not know how to do and judge me because of it. Whenever I tell people this, they tell me not to worry, that as an intern, I am not expected to know everything. I kind of wish someone would say the complete opposite—that I am going to screw up and the people I work with will judge me on my stupidity. Because I am sarcastic by nature, and not once been utterly offended by something someone has said to me, this would make me laugh which will inevitably make me feel better. I know that if someone posed the same question to me, I would not give them the run-of-the-mill ‘you will do fine” or ‘don’t worry about it’ because I would be as sarcastic as the situation would allow; that is just how I am.
Sometimes I do not want to be that intelligent person people assume I want to be. Sometimes I just want to play dumb so people will not expect much out of me. Sometimes I just want someone to tell me that I will fail so I can try harder to prove them wrong.
As my first of [hopefully] many blogs, I am sorry if this has become a sort-of ‘Debbie-Downer’ kind-of post; I really do not mean to make it that way. Really, I am not a ‘Debbie-Downer’ person, but it is 3:13 in the morning and this is what happens on very little sleep (and a little downtown action).
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