Well, it’s official.

Today I’ve committed myself.  And no, I’m not currently surrounded by men in clean white coats who are coming to take me away.

I’ve committed myself to applying for a job.  Not a job job, but just a job.  You know, something that will get me out of the house and interacting with creatures who walk on less than 4 legs and don’t lick my face by way of greeting.

It’s the kind of job I’ve done before – back when I was still going to school and thought I was working towards something better.

Turns out that “better” is a state of mind.

If only I’d known that before all those student loans, huh?

There are several things I plan on doing before I muster the nerve to go out and let someone tell me whether or not I’m good enough.  I still need to finish this blog post, work out, shower, start some laundry, and make myself somewhat presentable for immersion in the outside world.  It’s been awhile, but I’m pretty sure I remember that the outside world doesn’t appreciate bare feet, outdated glasses, and dog hair covered peacoats.  So these things I need to remedy before I leave.

And while I’m doing these things, I know the fear will start to creep into my system.  I’m a fairly confident person.  I’m not easily shaken.  But what if – what if – this is the time when they finally tell me to grow up?  They don’t want me for this job?  I have too much experience?  Why on earth would you want to come back to this when you’ve had some of that?

I won’t know what to say.  Maybe for the first time ever.

And that scares the hell out of me.

So please wish me luck.  For the sake of mulligans.  Do-overs.  New beginnings.  Whatever you want to call it.  This isn’t something I want to do forever.  I’m just dipping my toes.  But apparently I’m dipping them with my socks on because, like I said, the outside world – especially the food service industry – doesn’t appreciate bare feet.

Holy crap, what am I doing?