I went to a professional networking event earlier this evening, I showed up a fashionable 49 minutes after it started (in my defense, the organisers had described it as “drop in whenever”). Having spent the 6 hours before it in my hotel bed, blackout curtains shut, the sunlight and voices of a good 100 people that I walked into hit me like a brick. Twenty minutes and four and a half conversations later, my voice was already gone and I fled back to my room, feigning needing to work (I did, technically; practically, I also had no brain left).
The people there are nice, but I’m not close with any of them. I’m only now realizing that one of the hardest parts about the events in the next days will be saying “Thanks, I’m great! How are you?” another 364 times. I’ve only said it about six times and I already want to break down and cry instead. I’ve been having bad crash symptoms all day, with painfully swollen lymph nodes, throat and ear ache, muscle and joint pain everywhere, and oh that tiredness. At the same time, I’ve had to try and finish my presentation that I’ll give here in a few days. At the thought alone of standing on a stage in front of hundreds of people, standing, speaking for a good half hour, and having to appear at least somewhat confident, again, I just want to break down crying. I know I’ll get it done somehow, but I already know and dread the price I’ll pay.
One of the three people who are here and know what’s up with me said earlier, “it’s incredible how you’re managing.” It’s really not. I’m not.