I need to grade papers right now. Ironically (or sadly), they are the same papers I needed to grade when I posted on Monday. That probably does affect my type of anxiety, but it's not the main factor.
I really worry about how people perceive me. A lot. My department chair emailed me this morning and asked me to come by during my prep. She probably wants to run something by me about our meeting this afternoon. But I won't be able to stop worrying that she's upset with me about something until after I've met with her. Which makes concentrating on grading essays very difficult.
I really care about my job and profession. I'm very opinionated and I speak my mind. But at the same time, I'm very aware of perceptions and always try to frame things in a way that will be accepted and will not piss people off. And I'm wondering if I talked too much yesterday at our meeting. I don't really think so and I think what I said was important, but I don't want to step on anyone's toes or annoy anybody. And I can't stop worrying about it until someone tells me that I don't need to.
I'm talking with my principal about taking a leadership role for part of the day next year. It's scary, but I want to do it. But he said not to talk about it with anyone. I haven't...except the dept chair...who already knew about the position and thought I should do it so I figured it was okay. But I got a call from him during class later that day and while waiting for him to come on the line, completely freaked out. He knows I talked to P. He's pissed. I won't be able to do the position anymore. Etc. Etc.
But really he wanted to ask me to talk to another teacher about something I had already talked to her about.
I wish I was liked husband who couldn't give two shits about what people think. He literally does not get embarrassed. (To a fault...).
But I care a lot and it makes me anxious and it makes me not get work done which makes me feel guilty which makes me feel more anxious.
ETA: It was just a normal chat...just like the rational part of my brain thought. Stupid.
In other news, dinner last night was not the simplest affair. 3 spoons. Yogurt throughout the hair and eyes when I was fetching the 3rd spoon. Lots of food on the floor. And 3 mouthfuls of sand at the park. 1) after falling off a step...tears 2) shoveling it into his own mouth with his hand 3) going straight to the source, mouth to sand #raisingboys! (And I say that not because girls don't do these things, but because I sure didn't when I was little. Ick.)
ETA: I broke my own rules by meeting a friend and her son at the park yesterday. Just learned he left school puking. Now I'm terrible mother on top of the rest. (Called Grandpa who's with Dylan today and he's totally fine at the moment.)