Upset

I don't know why they call them "butterflies in your stomach". It should be chainsaws. Today I'm going to speak to the manager of a local restaurant. I might be getting my first real job! While normally this would be very exciting, right now I'm a mess. Ugh I hate talking to important people; I'm always afraid I'll say something like "yes ma'am-sir" or - classic - "oh when are you due?" (only I would probably say this to a guy). I can't stand waiting. I hate waiting. But I still have like twenty minutes until I leave. Waiting just makes it worse. All the anxiety builds up inside me until I'm in physical and mental anguish! Why can't I just snap my fingers and beam my identical twin over there right now? Oooooohhhhhhh I think I'm going to die an early death from a massive stomach ulcer. I get nervous too easily and too often. Curse this hyper-active fight or flight mechanism!
OK I think all this ranting has helped a little; I don't feel so bad anymore. Deep breaths, deep breaths. If I make a bumbling mess of myself I have nothing to lose, I'll just be where I started. My puppy Biscuit will still love me and I'll still have tilapia for dinner, and I'll still watch the new episode of Flashforward tonight. OK I'm all good.