Panic! at the Craft Store

Glitter is the herpes of crafts. --Demetri Martin

So what's been keeping me so busy lately?

One word:  Crafting.

Or at least something like it.

I have a good friend who is a local zumba instructor, and she is having a charity zumbathon to help raise funds and collect food items for one of the largest local food pantries. She saw the jewelry stuff I'd basically been doing for shits and giggles on my Facebook page and was so impressed that she asked me to sell my jewelry at said charity zumbathon.

Since she is such a good friend, and as I was feeling very flattered that she actually thinks I have some sort of talent in this department, I accepted.

But now I'm really starting to regret my "yes" answer to her "will you please" question.

See, the zumbathon is May 30. Not too far away. It's a little late to back out now.

And I am suffering from some serious self-doubt. Like I feel like a total fraud/phony/talentless asshat right about now. I don't feel like people will take me seriously as a professional in terms of my jewelry.

Basically, my initial flattered excitement has been replaced by absolute abject panic and terror. I've actually been in tears a few times about this issue lately. Never when anyone is around, but the tears and sobs were still there.

This is basically the most professional and adult and serious thing I have done in my whole entire 31 years on this planet, and I'm absolutely terrified that I'm going to seriously fuck it up.

And I'm actually going to end this post now because I'm starting to become overwhelmed with emotion and panic and terror and dread again to the point where writing about it is not helping.

Please God, don't let me fuck this up.