I’m here writing a monologue, and oddly enough I feel that the thing I’m most insecure about it that very thing – writing it. That doesn’t make too much sense when I reflect on it – no offense meant to the instructor, but Freshman Seminar is a pass-fail course, after all – but I can’t help it.
Thinking along those lines, I suppose my real insecurity is one or both of two things; doing work that’s up to par enough so that I don’t embarrass myself handing it in, and public speaking. I’m trying now to determine which it is, and I truly do want to say it’s speaking in front of a mob – organized and relatively calm mob that this class may be – but I’m not sure. I have an odd tendency to worry about my assignments, and not so much doing them as understanding them. After all, it is a little embarrassing (full sarcasm intended) when you pour yourself into an assignment, turn it in, and have the professor and the whole class raise their eyebrows because you did the whole thing wrong. It’s…an epic fail? Is that expression too lame?
Since this monologue is supposed to reveal something about myself, I guess I’ll stay along the lines of insecurity and reveal the shocking truth that I have major anxiety _ I kid you all not. I’m not sure how I really come off to others now, but for most of my life I was the shyest, most reserved kid in the room. Seriously, the parents of some other girl in my kindergarten class complained about me to the principle of the school: they claimed I was haunting their kid or something because I was just standing there like a little miniature stalker. Of course that was a tad….overzealous of them – I was four, after all – but that sort of mentality stuck with me for years. Forget talking to strangers – that defined as people not immediately connected to me, so classmates as well; I’m saying I wouldn’t even dare looking them in the eye. I don’t think I come off as so shy anymore – I suppose you all can be the judges of that – and if I do it’s not because I’m trying like I used to. The way I see it, I’m in New York City: this is definitely the time to live it up.
I chose this image because I think it accurately represents what I was trying to talk about – my anxiety about coming out of my shell before, but the ability to do it later on. Of course, I could have chosen a cast of images to represent that, but this one had an adorable little turtle…or tortoise in it: in short, I couldn’t resist.
I think that’s all I can really say about myself. I would be more personal but…at this time I don’t see too much more to me than that little snippet. I feel guilty, though, after reading all of the other posts to the blog: my anxiety coming back to bite me again I guess. Since there’s little I can do to remedy it at this point, however, I shall resign to sigh, nod my head, and thank you all for listening because I’m sure it hasn’t been the most wonderful experience of your lives to hear me ramble for however long this took.