Whatever.

SPEECH
Yesterday I informed you that I was obsessing because at 8:00 this morning I was to give a speech on “The Basics of Tattooing” to my Public Speaking class. I promised you an update.

Well, forgive me for tooting my own horn (so to speak), but it went extremely well. I received numerous comments from classmates saying that I set the bar very high. The instructor e-mailed this comment:

An instructor could not be more pleased to have such a quality presentation from the first speaker.

I’ve e-mailed back and forth with a couple of people about anxiety today. As I stated yesterday I worry, worry, worry. About everything. I knew that the speech would go well, but I obsessed and panicked anyway, making life hell for my wife and me for several days. I didn’t sleep well last night, was nervous as hell before the presentation, and still essentially kicked ass.

This is how I’ve always been. I performed in rock bands for nearly two decades, and it was a rare night when I didn’t absolutely panic before showtime. I could have played those songs in my sleep—if I ever have to play “Should I Stay or Should I Go” by the Clash again, I’ll scream—yet it was invariably nerves, panic, and sheer terror before I went on stage.

The question is, without the panic, would I do as well? The panic is so ingrained in me now that I don’t know that I could change if I wanted to, but do I even want to? As “Big White Hat” stated yesterday, speeches are all about preparation. However, I was then able to transfer my anxiety towards the uncontrollable: will the Power Point work? What if my truck breaks down and I’m late? There’s no end to potential worries for a habitually anxious person.

One thing I know is that I need to begin focusing more. My performance at my “real” job is suffering because of everything else going on in my life. I made three mistakes on this week’s payroll, but thankfully all but one were minor, and that one affected only me. I shorted myself 30 hours on my paycheck. From here on out I need to focus on work while at work, school while at school, and homework while at home.

COMPUTER ANIMATION
Does anyone reading this know anything about computer animation? I’d like to be able to create crude (appearance and content) animation on my computer to post on the Internet. I don’t wish to attend a two-year program at some mega-expensive, rip-off vocational school like Brown College (of which I am a proud graduate), but I would like to learn the basics so I can transfer some of my anger into humor.

Let the networking begin.

CHARLIE THE TUNA
Does Charlie the Tuna know what’s in store if he ever gets his wish? Has anyone explained that Star-Kist isn’t a fucking spa, it’s a tuna slaughterhouse?

And what if I want dolphin in my tuna? Blow-holes are high in protein.

BABY CLOTHES
I heard a woman talking this morning about a new place at the mall to buy baby clothes. Not just any baby clothes, but the cutest baby clothes. She talked about them for the entire five or six minutes I was at Caribou.

Is there either a law or a chromosome that requires one talk about nothing but children when you have them? That’s one of the reasons I fear having children. I happen to enjoy talking about the impossibility of life and about the fact that we’re hurtling through space on a chunk of rock with no clear idea how we got here. I don’t want my capability of free thought to be usurped by an irrepressible urge to discuss onesies.