Mental state
Well, you can scrape me off the pavement right about now. I’d like to complain about being tired, except that yesterday I went to see my friend Louis’ baby. Baby Louis is 18 days old, and Mr. Louis is so fascinated by this baby that is now in his life that he wakes her up in order to interact with her. I don’t think Louis has had three hours of consecutive sleep in 19 days. So I’m not that tired.
Gratuitous academic reference
I survived my first week of class (provided I get the fuck off the Internet and go to class…right about now…okay, I’m back), and can name many more parts of the cell than I could last week. God help me, I think it’s kind of fun. Last night I was doing something else and said “Oh, crap, I have to go do my reading for class tomorrow,” and I swear I heard DP chuckle. (He’s got kind of a cute chuckle.) And because I’m auditing I don’t have to do my homework, just the reading. Nyah nyah.
Maybe I should talk about editing
I’m taking this bio class in order to a) know the first thing about what I edit and b) as an exploratory measure in case I want to get fancy certification that, in theory, will help me get more money and jobs.
Did I write this week?
Yes I did. And it sucked. Writing is hard. Save yourself. Become an accountant.
What was your week like?
I, too, wrote and it, too, sucked.
And I can’t count, so my accounting career will never get off the ground. And, despite it all, I would have rather written than not written.
Save yourself! Become an accountant! You’ll probably even get paid!
I’m having an Exclamation Point kind of Friday.
I wrote, and am waiting to find out if it sucked.
I wrote something from an angst-ridden prompt that someone dared me to do, and her husband e-mailed me to ask if i was all right, because his wife was crying about something I’d done.
Did she cry because of what you wrote? Because if she did, then your job here is done!
She just confirmed that she did, “but in a good way.”
I’ll take it!
My friend J and I high five each other when one or the other of our memoirs about grief make someone else cry. So high five, Sarah W!