I will have departed for my party meetup with My Colleague. And I am excited. I'm not scared. I feel butterflies, but the good kind. I want more to come from this night, but I won't die if it doesn't happen. I won't even die if I blow it tonight, and say something that makes her roll her eyes and consign me to the hopeless nerd bin. Idon't plan on dumping the whole Geek Me on her, but I'm not inclined to be ashamed of anything that I am. I'll just be wise and diplomatic. I'll do whatever I would tell any of my clients to do. No pretenses, but nothing overwhelming either.
As so many of you have said, Just Be Myself.
And I can do that better than ever.
Because I LIKE myself better than ever.
So I polished me up. I shaved and trimmed my hairline. And I liked what I saw. So I dabbed a little cologne (25 year-old Stetson, for the curious) and I liked how I smelled. Then I stripped off my socks and baby-wiped with shea butter my feet--every inch--until they glowed healthy brown, ash-free, just in case they have to make an appearance tonight for whatever reason. Then I put on my business casual--what I'd wear at any time that I'm with a client. And beheld myself. WITH my little stomach pooch.
And I liked it.
I'm not a bad looking guy.
Even my feet are okay. Nails and all.
And I'm funny.
And I have a great career.
(And so does she.)
I like this.
This is going to be fun. No matter what happens. Because I'm okay.