Umm, okay. Blog…What do I talk about? How do I even start?.. Oh God, I’m actually getting quite concerned at the sheer amount of dread and tension I’m currently feeling. I feel as if I’m moments away from a panic attack; just one more heart palpitation and it’ll be hyperventilation time and I’ll be curled in the fetal position on my bedroom floor. Do all bloggers get this red in the face? This hot on the forehead, with hints of perspiration peppered at the armpits? Is it good that I feel a sensation of impending doom and foreboding? Should my fingers be spasming this much as I attempt to clack a few words onto the keyboard?
– *Buzz* *Buzz* –
Ah, brief respite as my phone displays the email icon. I give out a big fat sigh as I slide the touchscreen to find that it’s from a teacher, Mrs Lane. Oh good, hopefully the boredom caused by this email will be enough to calm my neuroticism. I open it, my mind relishing the change of focus.
It reads, “Hello, How’s the blog coming along? ;)”
Jesus Christ! Okay, break’s over. Eyes widening, stomach lurching, and I can feel the sweat beginning to press against the skin behind my forehead. I’m fairly Shocked at both the immaculate timing of the email and the sudden bodily response that causes my cheek and lip to twitch slightly; but I am determined to escape this feeling, to claw back some kind of procrastination… and so I stare blankly at the email and think about it for a moment.
The funny thing (and by “funny”, I mean “mind-questioningly abnormal”) is that I don’t pay much attention to the blog bit so much, which is the bit that’s causing me anguish. No, instead I deeply analyse the most trivial aspects, such as the question: When is it an appropriate time to email back? Should I email back at all? Was it intentionally rhetorical? Is the winky face flirty? Because that would be extremely inappropriate for a teacher, not to mention school poli-
…And then it clicks. I understand the winky face. Mrs Lane knows me so well; she knows exactly how the blog is coming along. After about three years of being my English teacher and tolerating me as a student, I think she realizes how much of a weasel I can be when it comes to following advice. I will find and exaggerate any reason to distract myself. And yes, she was the one responsible for sending my body into meltdown because she suggested that I start a blog in the first place. And here I am now, my body malfunctioning. My mind is fuzzy like TV static. It’s a self-constructed writers’ block. I think I’ll give it two days to see if the apprehension stops.
So two days have passed and I believe that I am ready to start blogging. In this time I have contemplated what had caused such an irrational uncertainty of whether to continue attempting a blog. Originally, it was the idea that others reading what I had written would sneer judgmentally whilst thinking that I must be some brain-dead idiot to post such moronic-ism onto the infinity of internet. It was Mrs Lane that consoled me, she told me that blogging is about escape, and in her case, aggressive venting. My pleasure in blogging is paramount, the reader is second place. And hopefully my writing will improve as a byproduct, (I do realise that at the moment I am like an artist wildly stabbing a canvas with a paint soaked knife.) So here’s my first blog-post, and it’s been a painful one at that.
Good vibes, people.
(I was finally sold to the idea of blogging when, with a wink, Mrs Lane said “Who knows, you might be able to use your blog as a way to procrastinate.” And all I kept thinking was, was that wink a bit flirty?)