Cold Feet

double socks

It’s autumn/winter here in New York City, or as I like to call it, “Double Sock Season.”

I think I must have the coldest feet of any human being. My feet are literally ice. I think in a typical year, I’m numb from the ankles down, October through May.

Speaking of “cold feet,” as I type this I am heading out the door to another job interview. I’ve had a couple in the past week, and it’s completely changed my outlook from what it was, just at the beginning of this month. I’m pretty confident that things will turn around very soon!

Did I say, confident? I mean, catatonic with stress. The process of interviewing for a job I so desperately need has been wreaking absolute havoc on my body. I’m drinking Pepto Bismol in the mornings like it’s my own personal smoothie recipe.

My first session with my therapist was just after I’d been accepted to the BUST internship. For an hour, I laid out my worst fears: that I won’t be good enough, that I’d mess up, that it would be hard, that everyone would hate me. None of those things actually happened (my therapist has forced me to admit). Yet here I go again, having internal shakes about something that may-or-may-not happen.

What’s ironic is that I don’t think I’ve ever had cold feet in a relationship. I have always trusted my judgement when it comes to my romantic partners. So why don’t I trust myself when it comes to my career?

Wish me luck! I’m pulling on my thickest, wooliest socks — and putting my best foot forward.

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