dispatches from quilt city

Confession

So here it is...

My one major flaw...

What keeps my from the perfection of personality we all strive for (and my mother claims she's achieved)...

I suck at transitions. S-U-C-K. I can't handle it. They transform me from a strong, confident woman into a big ole weepy ball of confusion. And it happens every stinkin time.

You'd think I'd be better at it by now. I mean I've spent almost my entire life as a student, where transition is the name of the game. But no.

Now, for example, I am interning at Hillaryland and trying desperately to find a job. And frankly, it's not going so well. I try to tell give myself little pep talks. "I am employable. I will not work for free forever." I ask myself, "What would Oprah say?" And I know what Oprah would say. She'd probably have Dr. Robin give me a good dose of "get over yourself" - followed up by a solid helping of "get going."

My logical self knows all that. However, my illogical self worries that I'll never get a job, that I've messed up my life, or (the scariest one of all) that this "transition" will never transition and that I'll be stuck here forever.