I lied. It's the next night. A very long, long day at work. Busy busy. messy messy. Third night closing in a row.
I went to do some extra-mile-reporting this morning, only I am so afraid to walk up to a stranger and introduce myself and ask some goddamn questions. Why? Why this anxiety? Why?
And if it's because maybe I don't really want to be a reporter, then, please -- so what. I need to do something. Why can't I just do.it.?
I said this to my supervisor and she didn't understand. Can't imagine me being shy, she said. Can't understand why it'd be hard for me, it should be easy.
I don't know, I shrugged, face down, because I DON'T know. I don't know why I can't. I have ideas. Overwhelming self-consciousness, shyness leftover from childhood, social anxiety, fear of being judged, of sounding stupid, of looking dumb OH-THE-HORROR. Who cares? It doesn't matter. People aren't thinking about you, judging you, and if they are, it really doesn't matter what they think.
I know all this. And it's still hard.