Panic. Me. Now. Image by Flickr user star5112. (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Panic. Me. Now. Image by Flickr user star5112. (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Today I got an email from a lady wanting to interview me, in my capacity as parent. Super parent, apparently, because why else would she pick me? Yeah, she must think I’m a super parent. Anyway, it’s for a new venture that includes a blog and some other things. The interview will be over video Skype. Yes. VIDEO SKYPE.


For those that know me, I’m too anxious to even talk on the phone to almost anyone. I only Skype with my coworkers occasionally because we live in different parts of the country, and sometimes email doesn’t cut it. But I’m horribly anxious the whole time, not knowing when to talk, and when I do get the floor, I end up trailing off because I have no idea if anyone is listening to me. And video? I never answer a call with video. I’m not the happiest with my looks, and a very stressful (but generally very good) year has meant I’ve put on some weight. More than I’d like. And the interview lady wants me on video.

I read the email, first with an “oh cool!” and then as I kept reading, an immediate “oh crap” panicked reaction. One side of my brain said, “You don’t have to do this. You can say ‘no’ and just be comfortable at home without talking to her.” But the more reasonable side of my brain said, “This is a great opportunity. This company is real, and past interviews have been with somewhat high profile people, people who you know wouldn’t have done it unless it was on the level. And you could get exposure for your projects.”

So I have to write her back, tell her yes, and then start really panicking. I’ll have to make sure my hair looks okay, but since it has a mind of its own, that’s virtually impossible. I have to clean my office behind me. I have no idea how clean it looks on Skype, so we may need to do a trial run. I need to wear something flattering. Black. Yeah. My chair is black, so a black shirt might be slimming. Invisible-ing even.

This is going to be tricky. I don’t wear makeup, so I don’t know how I’ll appear to them. I’ll be representing the pale, sickly looking folk. Hm. They have a podcast and YouTube channel, so I’m guessing the visuals of me will be plunked up there for all the world to see. Kinda scared now.

But I can do this. They approached me. They must think I’m worthy to talk to. But why did they pick me? I know I’m awesome, but most people don’t know me well enough to make that determination. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I’m totally kicking Rory and the kids out of the house for the interview.