sometimes, i'm barely sentient.

So last night, I was with Rem at Eya’s office. They were filling out forms while I was providing background noise. As they were doing that, guy passes by and Eya looks up. “Hey, (name). These are the people from The Antithesis Collective. This is Rio, the editor, and Rem, the partner. They’ve received your manuscript.”

Have you ever been caught with your pants down in public? I guess the 5.5 people who read this blog think that I am generally glib, witty, and fast on my brain cells (or not, but whatever, right?). So yeah, as soon as Eya said, “Rio, the editor” and “your manuscript” my brain froze in its tracks and automatically went into flight or fight. In this instance, my language centers fled and my tongue made a valiant attempt to continue speaking. While the effort was noble, I’m sure my own nanay would disown me if she saw me that way.

I remember thinking, HOLY SHIT ON STILTS, DID SHE JUST INTRODUCE ME AS AN EDITOR.

I was seriously praying for the tiles open up and gobble me up. I did not know what to say, so basically I just blathered through the entire thing. Blathering is only acceptable in polite company if you’ve just drunk the contents of a beer truck.

So to recap: I met one person who submitted a manuscript, I froze like a deer in headlights upon introduction, and I was suddenly hit by temporary (heh) mental retardation.

I’m pretty used to my mental faculties fleeing when distressed, I mean while ziplining, my brain refused to process vectors, velocity, force of impact, ragdoll physics, and trajectories. I feel it’s a little wrong to compare something a willingly signed up for as an extreme activity, but it’s how it feels sometimes. Hear me out, okay?

One minute you’re on safe and solid ground, next you’re climbing up stairs to a wooden platform a few feet off the ground, then you’re strapped to a harness. While the harness does look safe, you’re convinced that it can only hold a certain amount of weight. The zipline person assures you that it’s all good, the wires can hold tons, and you can let go of the bar. You shake your head vigorously, no, no, you’re fine with both hands clamped tightly on the metal bar, thank you very much. You are terrified of heights, you remember as your knees knock together and you feel the familiar cold tingly feeling you get when you’re required to make a speech. The next thing you know, your feet are dangling in empty air, and you’re accelerating (very fast) toward a point several meters away.

Mind goes blank. You are vaguely aware that you’re screaming at the tops of your lungs

(FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK)

and that your heart is attempting to beat a speed record while contained inside your chest cavity. Then boom, you’re back on the ground. It was the scariest, most terrifying experience of your entire life on earth.

It was also one of the most memorable, most exhilarating couple of minutes of your existence. Why did you do it? Because you wanted to. Were you scared shitless? Hell yes. What were you thinking? I wasn’t thinking. How do you feel? AWESOME.

What I’m saying is, I’m terrified of the things I will have to do (i.e. editorship, giving feedback) while working with The Antithesis Collective. I’m scared, weak-kneed, trembling, and two-seconds away from losing my lunch. But somewhere along the way, I expect the self interview will go the same way. Why did you do it? Because you wanted to. Were you scared shitless? Hell yes. What were you thinking? I wasn’t thinking. How do you feel? AWESOME.