So Wednesday is the longest day of the year. (I know. So what if there are 52 of them?) But today was good. I really enjoyed fiction workshop, and I bet people have marked me down in their infamous books as that kid who needs to quit talking so much in class. I can't help if I get excited about it. Hovie returned to me my short-short, and it restored my faith in myself as a writer. And I've been thinking, as I often do, and I've decided that what I really want to be -- regardless of talent, ability, practicality, or plausibility -- is a writer. In ways, I've always known this. But I have this completely unfounded faith in myself (which is miraculous enough as it is) that I can do it, and I'm trying to recognize and validate that. I just need discipline. Pesky discipline.
Holly took me out for my birthday! I picked Los. The food could've been better (I guess I'd just built up too much anticipation and my expectations were unrealistic.), but it was a good time. Thank you, my b/f/f/. And why don't ya give Holladay a hug for the Reese's for me.
There's a white rabbit by the name of MorganWillCancelClassesTomorrow hopping around out there, and it would be nice if somebody'd pull him out of a magical silk hat. But if nobody does, tomorrow afternoon (sooner if you're feeling like a magician) takes me to the homeland for fall break and birthdayish things.
Happy three-day-weekend to you all!