I have dreams all the time about houses in which I've lived in the past. I always discover a secret basement or a whole floor I didn't know existed.
Today I discovered a secret compartment of my closet. No, I'm not joking. In the far back corner, near my wedding dress, is a whole section of "nice" clothes I've bought for cruises, concerts, etc... I wear the item once, dry clean, then hang it behind my wedding dress and forget about it. There is about 15 years of stuff there.
In the pre-RWA conference stress of wondering what I have that is professional, yet youthful, yet serious, yet quirky, yet edgy, yet respectable I started ordering stuff online (that, and I was laid up and unable to go out for a while). Those items have been trickling in and, guess what? When something is too good to be true, it is. Things are cheaply made, funky fits, and generally unflattering. Last night, I actually cried. I know, sad.
After my crying jag and subsequent ice-cream fest, I pulled myself together and convinced myself that my appearance is really not important. As long as I have good hygiene, am personable, and show that I am a serious author, no one is going to reject me based on the fit of my trousers. I went to bed last night in a better frame of mind.
This morning, on a whim, I looked behind my wedding dress. It was like finding a hidden room in my house. So many NICE items that I would never wear in my everyday, middle school teaching, suburban Mommy, life. Even more amazing -- things fit. And there were enough black and white ensembles that I can mix and match and pack smart. It's such an awesome find that I expect to wake up and realize it was a dream.
It's wonderful to have that stress gone. Now it can go back to being 100% about the books (which it should be anyway). Yes, I have to pack. Yes, I still need my orthopedic surgeon to clear me for heels. Yes, I still have to reign in my social awkwardness and pretend to be a confident and not-too-weird. All of these things are manageable (yay for medication!). In the meantime, I now have a week and half to have my one-sheets printed in color. I may even be able to take a day or so and write new material. The options seem limitless.
In other news, I've decided to stay at the Hilton Double Tree on the other side of the Marriott parking lot. That means no big fat commute, which is nice. It also means potential for social time with fellow authors and more agent stalking opportunities. Are you going to RWA 2012 in Anaheim?
Today I discovered a secret compartment of my closet. No, I'm not joking. In the far back corner, near my wedding dress, is a whole section of "nice" clothes I've bought for cruises, concerts, etc... I wear the item once, dry clean, then hang it behind my wedding dress and forget about it. There is about 15 years of stuff there.
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| Disclaimer: the above scenario is fiction. |
After my crying jag and subsequent ice-cream fest, I pulled myself together and convinced myself that my appearance is really not important. As long as I have good hygiene, am personable, and show that I am a serious author, no one is going to reject me based on the fit of my trousers. I went to bed last night in a better frame of mind.
This morning, on a whim, I looked behind my wedding dress. It was like finding a hidden room in my house. So many NICE items that I would never wear in my everyday, middle school teaching, suburban Mommy, life. Even more amazing -- things fit. And there were enough black and white ensembles that I can mix and match and pack smart. It's such an awesome find that I expect to wake up and realize it was a dream.
It's wonderful to have that stress gone. Now it can go back to being 100% about the books (which it should be anyway). Yes, I have to pack. Yes, I still need my orthopedic surgeon to clear me for heels. Yes, I still have to reign in my social awkwardness and pretend to be a confident and not-too-weird. All of these things are manageable (yay for medication!). In the meantime, I now have a week and half to have my one-sheets printed in color. I may even be able to take a day or so and write new material. The options seem limitless.
In other news, I've decided to stay at the
3 comments:
Loved this! I'm living with a low grade sense of panic. I'm too old. I babble when nervous. I'm worried I'm going to fall off my heels and break an ankle in front of everyone!
Glad I'm not the only one!
Finding a secret room is a recurring dream of mine. But your find is much much better. Congrats! Do not wear heels--trust me, it is not worth the potential damage and/or pain.
Doctor cleared me for heels this morning -- but I'm not going to push my luck. Probably.
Janet - we're not alone. As I research for the conference I'm finding more and more blogs about people in varying stages of freak out.
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