Man, I am so nervous about my workshop class today

This thing happens to me when I get nervous–truly nervous.  Like, the kind of nervous that isn’t just lip service, that’s a real neurological thing that I have no control over and that makes me angry because my internal chemistry forces this condition on me.  Basically, the thing that happens is that I need to pee a lot.  I’m jittery enough already, but now my bladder is all like, “Bitch, I will piss all over this computer if you don’t do something about this right now.”  I don’t understand it, but I know that this started happening to me about 10 years ago, when I ran NYRR races in Central Park every other weekend.  It was “the nervous pee” that I had to do before every race.  Now it’s the nervous pee that happens before everything that makes me nervous.

And tonight’s writing workshop class will be one of those things.  It’s the class where we workshop my bird-centric crime novel.  I’m somewhat confident about it, but also somewhat doubtful.  I’ve already gotten feedback on it from Amanda (mixed), and, at the time of the writing of this post, I’m still waiting for Canelli’s feedback.  When I handed the piece out in class last week, one of my classmates began reading it right away, and the facial expressions he made weren’t too reassuring.  Oof.

And yesyesyes, I know I don’t have to listen to what others say, that I’m really the one in the end who makes the decision about whether it’s good or not, or whatever else people have said to me or the things I’ve told myself about dealing with workshops.  Still, none of that changes the fact that I have to sit there, stone quiet, for at least 40 minutes, while my classmates debate the worthiness of what I’ve written.  It’s not an overt judgement of me, but it still kinda indirectly is a judgement of me.  And that’s the tough thing, because everybody wants to be liked.  On top of that, now people are going to think they can read things into my personality based on what I’ve written.  And they probably can.  And that drives me just as crazy as my bladder.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *