It's a Christmas essay, and it's going to be published in December. I'll post the specifics when they become available. I'm really excited about this acceptance. It will be the first prose piece I've ever gotten published. I've been writing short stories and essays since high school, but I've only ever submitted a couple of short stories to local writing contests (with no success). So this news is really affirming. Times like this make me feel like I really am a writer.
I really needed this good news because I had a really tough teaching day. I can't get into specifics, but, suffice to say, I had to put on my stern professor persona. It was very difficult. The situation isn't completely resolved yet, but I think everything is going to turn out fine. I found the whole ordeal a little exhausting, however. I stressed about it all day and then, afterwards, felt completely drained. If I were a drinking man, I'd be on my third or fourth gin and tonic by now. Instead, I'm sitting here, typing a blog post about how much I want to drink. Does that make me a virtual alcoholic? Or do I have to virtually black out a few times first?
It is Web dip Monday, and I do have a question that's been bugging me for a while now:
Is life ever going to get any easier? (Imagine me dragging myself out of bed at 4 a.m. for work, this question on a repeating loop in my mind.)
And the answer from Charlotte is:
"That remains to be seen. But I am going to save you, and I want you to quiet down immediately. You're carrying on in a childish way. Stop your crying! I can't stand hysterics."
That is not a clear answer. It's more like the answer my mother used to give me when I was a kid and asked stupid questions. Instead of saying "no" immediately, my mother would say, "We'll see." She left the door open just enough for me to believe anything was possible.
Saint Marty appreciates that open door policy.
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| I ain't afraid of the po-po, neither |
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