I’ve been thinking about TikTok lately.
My kids told me I should be on TikTok to promote my book, my blog, and to discuss everyday thoughts. I’m not sure, though. It’s crazy intimidating. The thought of putting myself out there for the entire world to scrutinize is scary for a self-conscious introvert like myself. But then I scroll TikTok, watch a woman just like me talking for two-minutes about her favorite sports bra, and think to myself, there’s no reason why I can’t get on this platform also. If she can do it, I can do it.
So, it’s on the list. I’ve made a TikTok account. I just need to start recording.
In my twenties, I lived on the third floor of a walk-up apartment in Boston’s North End. I didn’t have a washer or dryer in the unit. To do my laundry, I had to gather all of my dirty clothes and walk them four blocks up Prince Street to the laundromat. I’d put my clothes in the washing machine, walk back to my Salem Street apartment, up three floors, hang out for 40 minutes, head back to switch the clothes over to dry, and then repeat my steps while the clothes were in the dryer. It was a royal pain in the ass.
I hated laundry day. I had anxiety walking to the laundromat because occasionally I’d get there and all the machines would be in use so I’d have to lug my basket all the way home and wait out the crowds. I also hated collecting quarters all the time. It never dawned on me to walk into a bank with ten bucks and get a roll of them, instead I would squirrel away change in a jar in my kitchen and hope that I had saved enough when laundry day came around. Doing laundry in winter was the worst. On cold days, I brought a book, sat on the hard laundromat folding chair, and waited out the wash and dry cycles so I wouldn’t have to trudge back and forth to my apartment.
I really, really hated doing laundry back then. If the laundry basket was filling up, I’d begin to ruminate about laundry day. I would begin to stress about the time it would take me to complete two loads, wonder if the laundromat would be busy over the weekend, and lament that it was going to take up the better part of my Saturday to complete the chore.
But you know what? Doing laundry was never as bad as the thought of doing laundry.
Quite often I’d run into friends at the laundromat. We’d chat, sometimes grab a cappuccino around the corner at Caffe Vittoria. Other times I’d walk around the North End while my clothes were in the machine, passing Paul Revere’s house or heading to Christopher Columbus Park to sit by the water until it was time to switch the clothes into the dryer. Looking back, laundry day, sometimes, was actually pleasant!
I overthink. I ruminate, and I overthink. I simply need to DO. Doing the task is almost always better than thinking about doing the task.
Today, I’m overthinking posting on TikTok. I’ve already started, and I am catching myself. What kind of lighting do I need? Should I get one of those ring light things? What should I say? Should I write a script? Who would sit through two minutes of me talking? How do I market my book on TikTok? How do I put a filter on? Will a filter hide my wrinkles? How many likes will I receive? How does one make a TikTok?
And on and on and on. But I know this, this is what I do. I’m hoping that this year I can learn to push past my thoughts, to stop contemplating every last scenario of things, to DO more, think LESS.
So, if you’re on TikTok, keep a lookout. I just might throw caution to the wind and actually do this thing!
