Er and the yeah that’s why and I’m a um well actually you see it’s…


I genuinely think I’m going to explode with nerves. I mean it. You’ll get an Elm-shaped crater where I was. (haha, Elm shaped oh my god)

Gah. CALM. Peace and calm and serenity and all that…

Tomorrow, I’m going up (down?) to London to audition for some acting – no, PRESENTING – job.

Woah, slow down! Just to warn you, this is going to make me sound like an absolute, arrogant, self-centred twat. Basically, about 3 and a half years ago (nearly 4) I was involved in a film called Imagine. ‘Twas about blind people, so obviously I got the part…

Oh no, that sounded worse than I thought. “Look at ME, PEASANTS, I was in a film and you weren’t, nyahahahaha, I’m sooo great!” Dear God.

It was a great experience, and I made a few friends. Also, it was hectic and I distinctly remember several catch phrases… Let’s not go into that.

When I was 11, I was a confident little shit, and so after the film I signed up to this agency called Visable (that’s it’s name, isn’t it?!)

It’s only now that I’ve been convinced to do some work. The conversation with my dad went a bit like this:

“There’s a presenting job on the website!”

“WHAT?! Huh? What?”

“Well, it’s tomorrow… Do you want to do it?”

“Tomorrow… WHAT? What do you mean, tomorrow? Oh god I don’t know, I don’t know, just give me a second to think!”

I was convinced to do it. How, I don’t know. I know I’m being arrogant and picky – it’s an amazing opportunity – but I am terrified.

The problem? I can’t speak without stuttering. Yeah, sure, with friends I’m fine, but stick me in a room with people, tell me to talk, and I can’t.

Has anyone got any tips?! I have a bad feeling I’ll fuck up and say something wrong. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing! What if I mumble?

Okay, okay, okay! Stop freaking ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh dear god

Sorry for spamming with the O’s… I’m scared!

What if I-


Help meh! I’m not even joking; the bloody thrice damned thing is TOMORROW, and I’m shit at acting, and I can’t string a sentence together, and WHY did I agree to this!

Okay. I’ll just wing it. I hope I don’t cry, or something, when I get there. I’m 15. I’m mature. I CAN DO THIS!

Elm, professional actor, speaker and presenter, signing out.


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