Confession Tuesday
I confess that last week I finally printed out my revisions to the novel and read them over and started to panic because they are complete and utter s@!t.
I confess that, following the above realization, I figured out something major about the story -the wrong tree I'd been sniffing suddenly turned roses-lilacs-rosemary.
I confess that, after agreeing to bake three dozen cookies for my friend to serve at her play, it occurred to me that I've never baked so many cookies (at once) in my life!
I confess that last weekend, carrying 20 pounds of groceries, I slipped and fell on the ice. It sucked. My hand still hurts. And no, I don't plan to see a doctor. You know full well that I'm western-medicine adverse.
I confess that I have an intern. I also confess that I'm ridiculously nervous around him, and I can't figure why. Perhaps because he's so intent, intense, and earnest? But I should be used to earnest people by now!
I confess, shhhh, I have a steady writing date partner. She's the ex-girlfriend of a friend-in-law who lives with my co-counseling partner. Don't tell Nora I'm cheating on her, or my writer's group.
I confess that D and I are going away this weekend to celebrate our ninth year of hanging-out/lover-hood/partnership. We will bask in the freezing temperatures of Kean, NH, and enjoy some Alvin Aliey dance. Blahblahblah -you say. Spare us the boring details. Just tell us: what's this year's anniversary challenge? You ready for it? Foot race. Short, simple. Best out of three. It's on, baby.
I confess that my new friend Bitson (met at Skillshare and through going to random dance parties) is WILDLY popular. People love him everywhere I take him (or he shows up.) Which of course makes we want to take him everywhere.
I confess that, following the above realization, I figured out something major about the story -the wrong tree I'd been sniffing suddenly turned roses-lilacs-rosemary.
I confess that, after agreeing to bake three dozen cookies for my friend to serve at her play, it occurred to me that I've never baked so many cookies (at once) in my life!
I confess that last weekend, carrying 20 pounds of groceries, I slipped and fell on the ice. It sucked. My hand still hurts. And no, I don't plan to see a doctor. You know full well that I'm western-medicine adverse.
I confess that I have an intern. I also confess that I'm ridiculously nervous around him, and I can't figure why. Perhaps because he's so intent, intense, and earnest? But I should be used to earnest people by now!
I confess, shhhh, I have a steady writing date partner. She's the ex-girlfriend of a friend-in-law who lives with my co-counseling partner. Don't tell Nora I'm cheating on her, or my writer's group.
I confess that D and I are going away this weekend to celebrate our ninth year of hanging-out/lover-hood/partnership. We will bask in the freezing temperatures of Kean, NH, and enjoy some Alvin Aliey dance. Blahblahblah -you say. Spare us the boring details. Just tell us: what's this year's anniversary challenge? You ready for it? Foot race. Short, simple. Best out of three. It's on, baby.
I confess that my new friend Bitson (met at Skillshare and through going to random dance parties) is WILDLY popular. People love him everywhere I take him (or he shows up.) Which of course makes we want to take him everywhere.