Oh God, I hate introducing myself; I hate it. Why did I even look at the Holidailies writing prompt? What was I thinking?
Normally, I have this totally cocky outlook towards suggested writing topics. (I hate the word cocky but it fits really. I mean, the word describing bold arrogance should sound rather unpleasant, don’t you think? Or, perhaps you think cocky is a pleasant sounding word?)
You should know that it’s highly unusual for me to have the confidence to muster a sincere declaration that I’m good at anything unless you’re interviewing me for a job, in which case, I tell you how detail oriented I am (but that’s probably just my way of sugar coating a minor case of OCD).
So, for me to say, “I can write about anything,” and mean it, means something. I can. I can write about anything: paperclips, muddy hiking trails and existential angst, storage boxes, cocoa tins and wax stains on unfinished wood. Name it, something, anything . . .
But introducing myself to the Holidailies readers? It feels like the first day of camp. Quick: be likable. If I’m not sufficiently funny and hip and interesting today–right now, you may never click on Mary and Bob’s Journal again. I’ll be relegated to the text that might as well be invisible, skimmed over on your way to The Show Must Go On (which is seriously one of my favorite blogs; and I’m not just saying that because the author and I both use the WordPress template “Dusk”).
I turned 40 this year. One option was to pick up my free weights and entertain cougar aspirations, but I didn’t. Instead, my first project as a woman-of-a-certain-age was to work through every math problem in Danica McKellar’s book for middle-school-aged girls. I did this because I refuse to start behaving as if I’m fully defined. I let myself be bad at math for long enough (which is probably rather ironic to people who know I spent the last two years earning a living as an accountant. Two words: Excel Geek. There’s a big difference between liking to play with Excel and being snappy with numbers.) It was time to take my own advice: “You think you’re bad at something? Get help. Practice.”
So that’s me: in progress. Super hesitant to draw a box and climb inside. I’m working on my least common multiple and breaking down complex fractions. Consider yourself introduced.