Now, the manic depressive diagnosis is still on the table, but hey, one down, one to go…..(or is it two?)
(Never mind, get ON with it already)
Okay. I am waiting for my supervisor to get back to tell me which numbers to plug into an Excel form. I don’t even know what they really mean except that they are VERY important to her.
I am scribbling a bit in this nice journal, and I still feel guilty about it, even though I have read so many places now from other writers not to fuss about such things. We are OUT of school now and it’s okay if our writing is not a work of art all the time.
Even though I loved the order and discipline of school, I’m not sure that neatness is conducive to creativity. But I am SURE you are probably tired of reading about it!!!!
Sorry. But have mercy on me, I am sneaking a writing session at work, I have pressures on me. I am not cozed up in my comfy chair at home with Bob and Robbie looking on encouragingly (after all I am making them famous)…. I am sitting in a mildly uncomfortable chair, in a tiny office with no windows, being bombarded by the unrelenting glare of florescent lights frying my brain cells. I have panty hose on.. . This in itself is enough mess up an otherwise wonderful day. And you want great writing ?
If you want great writing, read Mark Twain. Nice guy, highly recommend him to you. I wonder if HE kept a diary? I will have to ask my husband, the resident Mark Twain expert.
All I can think of is that I want to go home. But if I stay for 27 more days, I will have enough to buy my new couch. There you have it. The power of mathematics. The almighty dollar. WHY did I say I would stay till the end of September????? What was WRONG with me?
Later….
Okay, home now. Safe. Bare feet, comfy chair, Robbie panting in the background, kosher hot dogs for dinner, and my husband says he WILL do the dishes tonight… for real.
Life is good.