So folks, after being sick for a few days and trying to get back into the swing of things, and having new worker bees under me, I’ve had more time to think.
The potential of something going down between me and Lancelot has me hopeful and caring in a familiar, scary way.
When I like someone, I care what they think about me. Almost to a fault.
A good example was yesterday. I reported that I was feeling much better. He said that was good, etc.
Later in the evening he sent me a link to a motivational speaker.
First thing I did, was react.
So, he thinks I’m some lazy, unmotivated, bum?
Next thought. Maybe I don’t measure up. He’s ubermotivated and he gets results. Sometimes, I get distracted and side tracked. I got unfinished projects in the shoulda woulda pile that bother me everyday. I sometimes have pity parties and can take some time to get going again. Sometimes I let myself get forced into action. Maybe he senses that.
So I respond that the speaker was good, then asked if he thought I was unmotivated.
His response was that he was simply sharing some good information, that I’m on the right track and no matter who you are, every little bit helps– himself included.
So I typed back a true dat and kept it moving.
In that moment, I realized. Oh shit.
I care about what he thinks of me.
I wanted to have myself be more “together.”
But, I’ve decided to put myself on a time out.
I am who I am. And I have my faults, but everyone is human and so is he.
I have gifts, I have something to offer. I just need to be me and not get wrapped up in trying to impress someone. But when I get the urge to impress, it does mean…
I’m starting to care.