Actually. Shitstorm of vulnerability. Is more accurate.

But seems inappropriate for a title.

It’s ok to cuss in an actual post. Just not the title.

So, shitstorm of vulnerability.

Those are the best words I have to describe what is happening inside of my brain right now.

My son asked me how the new job was going last night.

Good…

Which, I mean, it’s not a lie. I still love my new job.

But when my old co-workers are texting and snap chatting me. From my old job. Where I was comfortable. And had people. Had them.

It just magnifies this massive insecurity about my new job.

Spent the day analyzing data yesterday.

Me.

Analyzing data.

I did that.

I analyzed. Data.

Then went to the gym. Where Big Lick asked how far a 20k is.

And my brain started panicking. And throwing numbers around. And finally settled on a half marathon…

Because a 10k is 6.2 miles. Or something like that.

So, obviously a 20k is 13.1…

And Fall Risk. In her best gentle, non-“you’re a dumbass” voice said, “Or maybe a little less than that…”

Fuck.

Right.

6 + 6 does not equal 13.

It’s fine.

The data that I was analyzing was qualitative.

So words.

I’m generally kind of good with words.

But honestly. I’m a grown ass woman. My friends shouldn’t have to send me morning pep talks telling me I’m good enough.

I should have figured that out by now, right?

Because rationally I do. Know that. I’m good enough.

But also I really, really don’t.

I don’t know where to sit in the lunch room. When they give us the free food.

Because the one stipulation for getting the free food is. You have to be social.

I love food.

I do not love social.

Tried sitting with a group I didn’t know last week. None of them spoke. At all. Until my boss came over and made them speak to me.

So yesterday I just sat with my boss. Like a toddler. Terrified to leave her mommy’s side.

*SIGH*

And it’s possible that…*SIGH* it’s possible that the gym is the only place I feel competent right now.

Dammit.

Which is all kinds of crazy given how mean J-Vicious is.

But also. When he starts piling multiple weights onto my lap. During my wall sit. And I don’t just collapse under them.

I mean, that’s a certain level of competence.

Now I just have to go into work and hope that no one realizes that I have no fucking clue how to create a pivot chart. From word data. Until I can find the right tutorial.

But I am at least clear now. On the 6 + 6 thing.