When you have a really bad case of imposter syndrome, it gets really easy to think that everything positive that happens to you is either a total coincidence, or because you were a last resort. The girl at the bar is still talking to you because the first guy she was talking to had to leave. Your friend offers you his extra Bulls ticket because his other choices cancelled. Your mentor from high school isn’t really that proud of you; they say that to everyone.
Or, in my very specific case, you only got asked to go on a business trip because nobody else was available. Is that the case? Of course not. I actually discussed this at length with some coworkers on Monday, but ultimately I think that mindset really held me back this week. It’s not that I think I did a bad job this week, only that I could have done better.
Here are some other things that pushed me off the wagon.
Vomiting in the middle of a run
I try to remain as active as I can, which is difficult to do when you live in Chicago in the middle of winter. Sure, I go to the gym at least 3 times a week, but if you only go that often and keep your work outs at a low intensity, you’re not getting much out of it.
That brings us to yesterday, when it was a gentle 73 degrees in sunny Phoenix. I laced up my shoes and headed out the door to the sultry sounds of the Arctic Monkeys. Mile one was fine. It was a breeze. Something hit me half a mile later. I don’t know what it was, but all the sudden I felt that if I didn’t stop to vomit in front of that high school that was having gym class outside, I would explode and somehow or another my mother would be ashamed of me. When was the last time you were pointed at by high school students? Mine was yesterday.
Crashing from my Cold Brew Bender
On Monday and Tuesday, I got fucked up on cold brew. It was the most productive start to the week I’ve had in months. That is, until I felt the after effects and ultimately crashed all at once. I think it was Sterling Archer who once said, “I’m afraid to stop drinking because the cumulative hangover might literally kill me.” I always thought that was a funny joke until my crash from cold brew tossed me aside like a recently jizzed on towel and left me half asleep in a conference room trying to hold it together during a three hour meeting.
Set the Bumble radius down to one mile and throw out some right swipes.
And by “some right swipes,” I mean right swipe on everyone for at least 30 minutes. Maybe I’m just not used to seeing so much skin all the time, but I’m slightly convinced that the southwest has some of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen. Men, women, shit even the dogs here seem to be well groomed and in great shape. It would be a shame to not go on a dating app while I’m here. While I didn’t get any matches, I haven’t lost hope. I still have roughly four days here, so for all I know I could be spending Friday making up for lost time. Granted, that could have a huge effect on what could end up happening between me and Bumble Girl From Chicago. That, though, is still to be determined.
Sure, there was more that held me back this week. I could talk about how I’ve had to forge new relationships with our Phoenix counterparts or haven’t been taken seriously, but what fun would that be? In the end, I believe that it’s what happens in our personal lives that sticks in the backs of our minds and affects us in the work place, so in the end, I’m the one getting in my own way here.
Back to Chicago next week. Let’s hope we don’t fuck anything up..
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