I have been uneasy all evening, and trying to disregard the cause. It’s not working.

I tripped over a package as I walked in the door today. (Actually, I tripped over a lot of packages, because Max didn’t come as promised to ship the Ebay stuff. Figures.) The package is from my new employer. I opened it, hoping it was my new laptop or printer. It wasn’t. It was a set of two three-inch 3-ring binders filled with over 1,000 pages of study materials. Worse than that, there was a calendar included. I have an online test over each chapter once a day for eight weeks. Every single day!

As I thumbed through the materials, my head spun. Mutual funds, bonds, T-bills, options, stocks - if it has anything to do with securities, it’s in there for me to memorize. And it all looks like Greek right now.

There’s also an uneasiness I can’t seem to shake about going to the Dominican Republic. I’ve been picking at it to find the root. Is it that I’ll miss Max like nobody’s business while I’m gone? Is it that I’m such a homebody I’ll miss Missouri? (Heaven forbid.) Is it the money thing? Is it just that I’m so consumed with stress and worry over the Series 7 exam that I feel guilty spending a week on the beach instead of studying my ass off?

To quote Tori, DING DING DING! All of the above.

I am not an idiot. I am relatively intelligent, actually. Business is in my blood. The market has always been a stifled interest. Now, I have quite the opportunity. And I’m ready to self-destruct it. I seriously hate this particular pattern in my life. Get something good, give it a good shove, and if that doesn’t work, sabotage it.

The effort that begins February 12th will not end for a minimum of two years - two years of grueling 10-hour days, endless knocking on doors, no more Saturdays off… I know that if it doesn’t work out, there’s no shame in that. This job takes a herculean commitment. But I hate to fail. Damn.

I know, I know, it wouldn’t be failing if I decided it wasn’t for me. But really, in my head, that’s how I view it.

Yet another thing to pray about.

So, less than 48 hours til take-off. Perhaps this feeling of foreboding will lift by then. If not, then a few pina coladas and a morning on the beach should cure it!

Fighting for positive,

michelle