A Nervous Wreck

I never stressed over exams. First dates never bothered me. Presentations? A shot to start the day keeps the jitters away. A championship game’s got nothin’ on this. A job interview is a walk in the park compared to what I’ve been feeling all day and will continue to feel through tomorrow.

My stomach is being eaten very slowly by a couple hundred very angry butterflies. I can’t stop bouncing my leg up and down and it’s shaking the entire living room (we have weak floorboards, okay? I’m not that out of shape). And I can’t remember the last time I blinked. It burns.

I’m absolutely exhausted from the past two weeks. If you haven’t seen our St*ff the Fan Cave 50 Says yet, watch it now. You might be the only person in the world who has not seen it. But it’s a very accurate depiction of my life since Feb. 8th.

For example, I can’t sleep. I wake up at 6am to go to work anyway. And I stay up until at least midnight campaigning my sorry butt off. I’ve tweeted my fingers to the bone (over 1,000 tweets in less than two weeks if we are getting technical). I’ve probably memorized the answering machine of every reporter, radio show or TV host West of Oklahoma.

From all this hard work, I’ve gotten a few awesome re-tweets, four media mentions, and five minutes on the radio. Okay, there’s more. I’ve gotten what I presume to be MILLIONS of votes from my amazing family and friends over the last couple weeks and I couldn’t be more grateful. I just don’t have the energy to properly thank you all right now, nor the money to buy you all a drink.

So, the reason my body is involuntarily contorting into strange angles is because I’m not sure how to feel. On one hand, I’m honored and shocked that I’ve made it this far in the first place. But once I realized I was 20 competitors away from moving a step CLOSER to that dream job, I went all out. Just ask the 2011 Boston Red Sox or Atlanta Braves what happens if you don’t step on the gas pedal with the playoffs on the horizon…ZING!

Sometime on Thursday (they keep it mysterious to absolutely torture our souls), we find out which 30 of us all very deserving 50 contestants are going to Spring Training next week. Where we will get to meet in person, have a grand ol’ time and probably have even more fierce competition than this time around to determine the six cave finalists.

My hands will be shaking until I get that phone call. Let’s just hope that it’s a happy-sounding Stephanie on the other side of the line. This obviously means a lot to me. If I get a “no,” I’ll move on. But not before I watch re-runs of Sex and the City with a few pints of Mint Chip ice cream.

Until we find out, thanks for the ride @MLBFanCave. And thanks for the support from everyone! I’ve met some amazing internet versions of people and really hope to stay in touch no matter the results. Because one day, I’d like to see what they really look like.

And I’d really like to see the inside of that Fan Cave.

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