I did a webinar earlier this week and I was a bit shit. Can’t pretend I wasn’t prepared, can’t pretend I didn’t know my subject, certainly can’t fault the audience because they were as great a group as they ever are. But nonetheless, shit.

There was one specific thing, but I don’t say that to mean it was the reason I was crap, I mean it as the only thing I can point to as definitely wrong. Well, no, okay, I also had a technical problem but I’ve never cared about those before, I don’t believe it especially threw me this time or ever. I even like problems because I enjoy coming in fully prepared yet totally, even keenly willing to throw all of the preparation away and do something else.

The specific thing was that I opened by going straight into the subject, no introduction. I don’t believe I need an introduction about me since it’s the topic that matters and if I’m talking bollocks then the fact I’ve told you that I’ve been doing it for years is not exactly a help. Plus I knew all of these people, I like all of them, and besides, I was given a gloriously funny introduction by one of them.

But still, I said hello, I think I said a funny thing, and then we were deep into it. The subject was Scrivener, a word processor — and I’ve just given you a clearer introduction to the topic than I did that night. Unquestionably, I assumed everyone knew what it was and that wasn’t an entirely awful assumption, since they’d each elected to join the webinar knowing only what the topic was. Nevertheless, some people had only heard the name and were curious. Others knew it better than me — which was a true boon and I think they were the reason the webinar worked at all.

Clearly there’s nothing I can do now to fix that webinar, and it kills me that a video of it was made for people in the group who couldn’t attend and so may even now being wondering what I’m going on about.

But if I think it’s right to admit I was shit, and if I also think it’s absolutely right to be thinking about it in the detail I am, I have also realised that there might be something here that speaks to who I am as a person.

Deep down, I assume that if I know something, so do you. If I’ve just found it out, you knew it years ago. And yet at exactly the same time, I am incapable of stopping myself rushing up to you like a puppy to tell you what I’ve just found, what I’ve just learned.

I can’t reconcile those two sides and if I like the presumption that you know already and yet I also like how tail-waggingly keen I get, still I think the two together mean I’m a bit of an eejit.

That isn’t a problem. I’m used to that. But being a shit eejit, that’s hard.