Nerves

Oh, my...

I've just been looking at the webpages written by and things written about my fellow directing students here at FSU. They all have, like, credits. And resumes. And existing careers in the theatre. I have... a BFA, a number of years of doing very little artistically, a nearly-completed degree in Storytelling, of all things, a good mind (hopefully), and very little else. What have I gotten myself into?

I feel like I'm going to be Eliza Doolittle at Ascot (without the admirers). "Come on, Dover! Move yer bloomin' arse!"

I have to remember that the (hopefully) good mind is exactly that. I didn't get admitted to this program based on my resume. And I have to tell myself (over and over again) that I didn't get admitted to this program because they needed to fill the space and quickly. There were hundreds of other people it could have been offered to- and they gave it to me.

I feel like I have a lot to prove. I didn't apply. I didn't try for it like you're supposed to. It was just handed to me, really. I have the fear that on Monday, when we have to sit in a circle and introduce ourselves, as you invariably have to do, I'll hear lists of achievements and accomplishments and well-thought-out goals. Then I'll say who I am, and everyone in the room will think, "How the f@ck did he get here?" Like when I was in London, I took a working-class guy to Harrod's for the first time. He'd never been because he thought the doorman would know he didn't belong, and wouldn't let him in. And that's not really the right mindset to enter into this with.

Anyway, I have to remember and believe that I'm here for a reason. I may not have the experience or training of the other students, but I do have what I have. I'm talented, I'm smart as hell, and I'm here to learn.