There’s power in looking silly and not caring that you do. -Amy Poehler
I rushed into the room holding a sleeping two year old after frantically finding a parking spot and walking ages to the venue. I arrived at 12:35. It started at 12:30. I was speaking at 12:30. (Technically 12:45 but my session started at 12:30 with the other speaker stalling until I was ready) I had ironed my shirt. Twice. Yep you read that correct. Wearing my winter down jacket wrinkles this particular shirt so I ironed it two times opting to freeze on my way so I wouldn’t be a wrinkled mess in front when I was speaking.
I had just come from the laundromat for the third time that day! The dryer I had picked to turn my clothes into a warm retreat from the cold wasn’t evidently working the entire time it was drying. Brilliant. I headed back again to find them still damp while the boss lady lectured me about not drying clothes too much. When I gently let her know my jeans were still wet she not so gently let me know that they were fine and only slightly wet. Didn’t really feel appropriate to scream, “I’m an American!! Dry clothes are not a crime!!!” But man that was what I pictured in my head in that moment along with stamping my foot, rolling my eyes and walking out. Unfortunately I thought brat behaviour wasn’t ideal seeing she could hold my clothes for ransom.
So my third trip back I finally retrieved my nice warm clothes and did the mature thing and quickly got my clothes before I saw her and ran to my car. Don’t judge me.
I now am able to go rushing to the conference; only to find no parking spots. Awesome. After finding one that a sweet lady stopped and told me my car would be ticketed $55, I drove around the block three times. I told myself I wasn’t frazzled. I lied.
I head into the conference looking for the room I’m in only to find the session going. I catch the speakers eye so she knows I arrived. Then I feel it. Sweat. Trickling down my arms. Ugh! I’m holding this sweet boy that I nanny in my arms recall, so not only is my twice ironed shirt wrinkled but now I’m sweating. Perfect. Even better I’m wearing light grey. Yep, sweat is now visible. So much for wanting to look put together.
My friend picks up her little one and the speaker sees that I’m ready and begins to wrap up her part which she had been stalling on for five minutes at this point. I have a minute before I speak. I’m in the back. I don’t have time to go to the bathroom so I do it. I quietly and hopefully discreetly reach down my sleeves and start wiping sweat with my tank top underneath. I then proceeded to rub the outside of my shirt sleeve to make the sweat disappear. Living the dream. Living the dream. I’ve wanted to speak at conferences for awhile now and love the opportunity to share my heart and life. And as I sat in the back wiping my sweat off me I did stop and laugh at the fact that this was one of my dreams coming true. I was about to speak. And I was wiping my sweat simultaneously. Living the dream baby! Sometimes the dream is much less glamorous than I thought it would look, but it’s still the dream, and for that I’m so very thankful.