I've put myself in the position to have a lousy Wednesday. I question my abilities to handle my toughest classroom test (not of the scantron type, but of the keep-up-with-seasoned-scholars type). By Tuesday morning my stomach turns queasy, wondering how I will finish the remainder of my readings, if I will understand them, if I will be able to convey my thoughts into an insightful classroom contribution, if I belong with these scholars, if I actually have an "area of study," if I will still be the weakest link by the end of the semester, if my GPA will slip, if I really know what line of work I want to join, if my professor will be disappointed in my performance, if I was ready to take the giant step from straighforward university courses to debating graduate students, doctors, and lawyers in a graduate seminar.

I'm going to give myself an ulcer if I continue to question myself. This is the test I wanted: I'm finally struggling. Time to step up and untap all the intellect and determination inside me.

Update: I contributed my first intelligent idea to my nine colleagues in this week's seminar. What I said would bore you, but I was psyched to finally feel like I belonged in the class.