Up until yesterday this had been a week of small victories. I dragged my ass to a spin class on Monday night and forced myself to talk to the girl on the bike next to me. It was a victory primarily because I actually did it, despite numerous excuses floating around my head for not doing. The girl next to me was sweet, though the conversation was tricky as she had quite a strong accent, and then the class started and talking was no longer an option. Or indeed a physical possibility. Holy shit, that’s a tough class.
I also made a point of going and speaking to three new girls at salsa on Tuesday, which also went well. Dare I say, this is slowly getting easier? In fact, none of this felt like enough of a challenge anymore. So yesterday I got busy on t’interweb and found a MeetUp book group meeting happening that night. I hadn’t read the book (The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty), but the event description suggested that wouldn’t be a complete disaster so I shrugged, assumed a ‘bugger it’ attitude and clicked ‘join’.
After having tried to talk myself out of it on numerous occasions, I’m pleased to report that I did go and listen to a group of people talking about a book I hadn’t read. I was lucky enough to get sat down between two girls around my age, who I chatted with after the book analysis had wound down, employing all my new people skills. I probably shouldn’t be quite so surprised about this, but they seemed entirely normal, indeed they seemed really quite nice. The three of us have agreed to meet for a coffee sometime and I am duly patting myself on the back. Fear of not trying really did come through for me on this one.