with Mir Kamin
I'm a freelance writer and mother of two working from home, which theoretically means I can set my own schedule so as to best accommodate my family. In reality, "flexible hours" often equals "working too much." Yes, I'm my own boss; no, that doesn't mean life is easy. It's hard to leave the office when you live there. But I love what I do and feel very lucky. And not just because I get paid to work in my pajamas.
To learn more about Mir, check out her profile on Work It, Mom! or visit her blog at http://www.wouldashoulda.com/
As I sit here writing this, I’m doing something incredibly strange: I’m listening to myself on the radio.
A few weeks ago I was approached by a local station to be featured on their “Thrifty Thursday” segment, as an expert on finding deals while holiday shopping. The producer and the hosts were all incredibly nice, and I had a fun time chatting with them. And the piece is airing right now. I sound… weird. Well, to clarify: My voice sounds weird. But I sound… smart, I think. Good. Like I know what I’m talking about.
How did that happen?
It’s not that I don’t consider myself a capable person, or that I have some sort of inferiority complex or poor self esteem. That’s not the issue. It’s just really strange to hear myself being an expert.
I’m a writer. I feel completely confident in my ability to write things that make sense. But I do not consider myself any sort of public speaker, even though my career necessarily crosses over into various speaking engagements. This means that every time I do any sort of speaking, I’m always completely amazed by it.
Why did these people invite me? I think. And then Oh geez, I hope I don’t screw it up! Later, I think Hey, I totally fooled everyone. Yeah. I really do.
Because my self-view is of someone who is essentially bright and capable, sure, but mostly? A ginormous dork. It never ceases to astound me that I manage to speak in public without tripping over my own two feet, choking on my own tongue, or throwing up on my shoes. There’s a reason I prefer the written word. There are reasons I prefer working from home. I’m awkward! I mean, the “Real Me” is awkward.
Except that sometimes, I’m not. Sometimes “Career Me” bleeds over onto “Real Me” and I’m actually sort of… together. Now and then. Which is great.
But very, very weird.
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