Talking myself into something

I just had a lovely, great, enervating, and fun evening, out with a group of five other women at a pub-type restaurant. There was a band playing music we grew up with (as did the band, fortunately–always nice to have that congruence), and we talked and danced and drank and ate and regaled and laughed and had a fantastic time.

This is noteworthy (1) because I don’t have such an opportunity very often, so I treasured it and (2) I almost didn’t go.

Yeah, I almost talked myself out of it; I’m tired, I have work to do, blah blah. My usual self-talk. Which, as you can see, is rather limiting, which is why I’m changing it. But it’s an old comfortable place, safe because it means I don’t have to put myself out there, and thoroughly unhealthy. Which is why, as you can also see, I basically told myself to fuggedaboudit and go and have fun. Which I did. Thank heavens!