Talked to my producer again last night. Looks like everything is about complete. Just a couple more weeks of waiting and it’ll be in my hands.
I’m kind of scared.
Am I proud of my songs? Yes. Am I proud of the hard work? Oh yeah.
But I’m still a big fat scaredy cat.
What if people don’t like it? What if people laugh? What if I do it wrong, or screw up the business side, or choose the wrong musicians, or get vocal nodes, or blah blah blah...?
Stress and nerves are powerful things. In the last year, I’ve picked up a nasty habit of grinding my teeth. My jaw makes a lovely clicking sound now, and it is painful and sticks shut sometimes. My dentist is helping try and get that under control, but I think until this album gets going, my TMJ will be here to stay. grrrr. I’m just a really nervous person right now.
For me, this isn’t just a few songs. I am putting my heart and brain on display. It feels like I’m serving my own head on a silver platter, basically.
I think we’re all glad I’m not actually doing that. But I digress....
Maybe I should have more confidence in the process and, dare I say, myself. It’s more attractive, more competitive; it’s happier, it’s cool.
But is it honest?
When I think about it, who in their right mind, besides sociopaths, could POSSIBLY not be afraid when there is a lot on the line? Even when all the stars have aligned, when the clouds have parted right above your head, your stomach is still going to drop to your knees at crunch time. You can prepare for the pole vault all your life, but when it comes time for the Olympics, you’re still going to be afraid that your pole’s gonna snap and you’ll wind up a laughing stock in a viral iPhone video on YouTube.
So, for me to state that I am always confident and that pursuing a music career is easy breezy would not only be untrue, but ya know, kind of annoying.
Kind of like those brag-a-docious friends on Facebook who post solely about their will power, good hair days, and fancy parties.
Annoying.
So here I am, saying I’m nervous. I’m excited, driven, and ready, but I’m nervous.
Maybe it isn’t confidence I need. Maybe I just need some mindless magazines and a really big bath tub.
