The great I am

I have a great blog percolating on the interesting subject lines for spam e-mail. Thanks to my co-worker Nona for adding to the list. But in the meantime, I have yet another interesting assignment from my communications class.

Last week, our teacher assigned us the task of listening to the inner critic -- that little voice that tells you what a pile of shit you are on a daily basis.

My inner critic is viscious. I'm not good enough (pick the topic, motherhood, writer, massage therapist...) I'm certainly not thin enough and basically I have no business talking. I'm used to my critic, she and I have been arguing for years. But it is disconcerting to sit quiet and actually listen for her vs. hearing her scream over Metallica.

After that excercise, I was instructed to perform an affirming excercise and write "Who I am," "What I do" and "What am I best at."

That's easy. I've done my personal branding statement. I've written my personal 30-second commercial. I have that elevator speech already. I took the class on becoming my own advocate.

So, I am a writer... wait...

I am a ....

I am .... at a loss for words.

I have defined myself by my job for so long, I don't know how else do it. I am a blank slate, I can be whatever. I hope someday to combine the freelance writing career with the therapist gig, but that's a future endeavor. Today, I'm just ... Michele.

Well shit.