I'll Be Fine
I shift my gaze to center of my bedroom floor where my kitten, Charlie, is ferociously biting the side of my Advertising book. I pause and sigh before sweeping it off the floor. I don’t reprimand him because I understand. I felt the same way last week when reading chapter sixteen. I mosey back over to my desk and pull out my Journalism 531 assignment and glance over the requirements before putting it back in my binder. Not in the mood. Rustling through my bag, I finally settle on reading the anthropology chapter due tomorrow. I’ll finish my Journalism 531 assignment later.
I grab my yellow highlighter and sprawl out on the floor with my book. I open to page one and stare at the first sentence. However, my mind slowly drifts back to thinking about my Journalism 531 class. (In case you don’t know, the class requires you to run a public relations campaign.) So, I’m sitting on my floor at 11:35 at night when it hits me. What happens if my campaign stinks? Then what? Does that mean I’m not cut out to be a public relations practitioner? How do I know if I am any good at what I do?
All I can do is try to reassure myself. “It’s just cold feet,” I say, “I’ll be fine.”