I'm nervous. There's a job opening and I want to submit my application - I've been waiting for this opening ever since I got my degree, five years ago, I've been talking about how I'd apply, how I was building my resumé so I'd had everything ready.
Now, I'm nervous. In the past year I moved overseas, had a baby, and moved again. This was pushed somewhere to the back of my mind, and now I'm rushing to get all my stuff in order. Because actually, I wasn't ready.
It's no small miracle that I didn't misplace every little certificate and verification paper I should present now, though there is one I simply don't even remember what it looks like. I hope it's not important (for sure it's not my degree or my CPE, the heavyweights of my CV), but still... how silly of me.
So now, I'm nervous. My stomach is in a knot. I giggle and things just fall off my hands. Tomorrow morning I'll be going to the applications office with my bundle of paperlets reflecting what I did in the past 10 years, and I'm sure tonight I'll dream it rains and it gets drenched, or that I take a bus to another part of the city, or that I oversleep and I forget or... my nervousness dreams are haunting.
Tomorrow afternoon I'll be someone lighter, I know. Or heavier with regret. Who knows? I do know, though, the next 24 hours are going to be longer than the past 24 hours. If my nerves are able to do something, is to stretch time. Sometimes unbearably. Like just now.