catches your eye. Ah ha!
Perfect! I’ve always wanted to learn how to knit. Or take photos. Or make
chocolate covered bacon mouthwash.
You click for more details. $10? Seems a little cheap. Maybe its not a good class. $80? Seems a little steep. I can wait until there’s a discount.
The day goes on, lunch turns to your evening commute. And you’re still thinking about the class. A glass of wine into happy hour later, you say screw it, why not do it? And then you realize you can use Paypal to reserve your spot in the class. Sold.
The week of the event arrives. You’ve written it in your work calendar so you don’t forget. This class is going to open up a whole new world. Or new friends. Or your future husband. You almost schedule something the same night but decide against it. You must stay committed. If not for your sake, for your new as yet to be met best friend’s sake. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Plus you probably should’ve really waited for the discount ticket price and your punishment is to attend against your will. That’ll show you next time.
You recommit.
You spend the next few days excited to try that something you know you should try. You mention the class topic casually to friends. They seem impressed and mention they may attend the next time. Now you really have to go and serve as an explorer for your circle of friends. It’s really become a heavy burden, but it is one you’ve chosen to bear. You’re an innovator.
Morning of. The big day has arrived. Or at least a day has arrived. The day in which your class is on the agenda. You realize there was a note from the instructor sent the day before. You ignored it because you weren’t ready to think about the class yet.
It includes a small homework assignment. You suddenly feel tired. Maybe what you really need is to take good care of yourself tonight, even if it means missing the class. Self care has a very fine line, and its easy to mistake it for lack of motivation.
But then you have a flashback to you bragging to your friends about the class, and know what you must do. Plus you spent $80 on it. What were you thinking? You know better than to trust yourself to attend an optional class on a Tuesday night.
You recommit.
Naturally, despite your best efforts, you arrive 15 minutes late and the only seat available is at the very front of the room. Trying to keep your labored breathing from running to the class to a minimum proves difficult, but you are relieved to find that the class is very full. There is no way there will be time to go over that homework assignment you half-attempted to do on the way over. You breath a little easier.
The class is actually really good. You learned a lot, and you weren’t even forced to speak more than one sentence. High on this victory, you walk over to one of the instructors in an attempt to network. Someone has beat you to it and you debate with yourself on whether you should stand around awkwardly or just send her an email afterward. The email argument wins, and you make small talk with the other participants who opted not to stick around and network, instead heading straight for the elevator.
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| The way you feel after successfully completing random workshop. Go you. |
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