I'm self-employed and have an odd kind of job. This morning the Quebec part of the CBC interviewed me on the radio about it.

A researcher questioned me several days earlier so that the radio host had a good idea of questions to ask. I spent a few hours this weekend looking up material so I'd have little anecdotes to tell her. I even typed out a few notes.

Oh yes, I was calm. I was cool. I was collected. I Was Prepared.

And then, at 8:10 a.m. the phone rang as they told me it would. In the 1.3 nanoseconds before I picked it up, my mouth turned to cotton, my heart began to race, my palms started to sweat and my life flashed before my eyes.

Now normally, as my Three Loyal Readers well know, the boredom of my life flashing before my eyes would induce a coma-like state. I live a life so quiet that I can actually write paeans to a lawn mower engine. This morning, however, even my life flashing before my eyes was not enough to calm me down.

I have never, ever known such terror.

Oh, and even better, when I began to answer the host's questions, my voice started to crack. Yes, I am a 52-year-old woman, and yet somehow I managed to make my voice crack. And, as I tend to do when I'm nervous, I RanAllMyWordsTogether because What'sThePointofEnnunciatingClearly, especially on the radio?

Andy Warhol once said, "in the future everybody will be famous for 15 minutes". My teensy radio interview was as close to fame as I will ever get and I've got to tell you, I'm terrifically grateful it didn't run a second over five minutes. Frankly, had it run 15 minutes, I would have probably spontaneously combusted from the stress.

(I think we can all agree that while radio is a wonderful medium, really, you need television to fully appreciate the wonder of a profusely sweating 52-year-old woman speaking in the tones normally associated with an adolescent boy and then bursting into flame.)

Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to push the spousal unit out the door early this morning. He said, though, that he'd listen for the interview on the radio on his way to work.

Oh man, I am going to take such a teasing over this.

Am I too old to run away from home, assume a false identity and start a whole new life? Am I?

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 334.51 miles (538.3 kilometers)
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers