Other people always look so good, so competent, so passionate, so sure of what they're doing - from the outside. You never know how your own story's going to turn out.

Just fine, I'm sure. (I hope.) (No, no. I choose to be sure. I will define whatever happens as "fine" and choose to be happy about it.) I'm just having a prolonged moment of "how the hell do other people do this?" But for the record, anything I look like I do confidently/effortlessly isn't necessarily easy for me to do, and probably didn't start out that way either. Even here, I don't think folks see the sheer number of balls I drop. The only thing I do is pick them up sometimes. And that's a sometimes.

I try. That's just about all I can do. And it works out. It works out fine.

Actually, you know what? It does. And I'm much happier now than I was 2 minutes ago.

Huh.

Brains. They're funny little things. I'm going to bed.