About Me

headshotEvery first meeting of every class I’ve ever attended, the instructor says, “We’re going to go around the room and tell a little bit about ourselves.”
The class groans, either audibly or internally. The instructor points at the first person, and all eyes and ears aim toward the victim.
But do we hear what they say? No. Why? Because we’re wondering what scintillating information we’re going to share about ourselves.
And I get nervous every time.
This, the one test I can pass without studying, is the “Getting to Know You” quiz, because I know all my stuff cold. Yet I suffer.
The closer it gets to my turn to “go,” the more sweat pops from my pits. It’s a direct proportion; scientists have studied my perspiration-under-pressure ratio.
Depending upon the crowd — and factors such as: will I ever see these people again? — I may or may not speak truth.
I’ve used, “I’m a Taurus, I drive a Taurus, and my favorite animal is the Bull.”
Or: “I love Bingo, though it’s hard to spell. On weekends, I paint miniature unicorns for my shadowbox. And I used to ski naked, until the accident.”
Much more interesting than: “I’m a Mom and Librarian on a prairie Out There.”
But that last one is the truth.