i have a lot to say, which is almost as overwhelming as having nothing to say. this afternoon, i thought about how (this is no intentional reference to the alanis morissette song, but now i see the similarity)i don't write when i have a lot to say. if i don't have enough time to say it all, i won't say a thing. it's like taking a smoke break and not even lighting up because you don't have enough time to smoke the whole pack. so, soon, whether you like it or not, this addictive habit, thinking and writing, will be balanced on my bottom lip, all twenty thoughts ablaze simultaneously and it's going to look as ridiculous as it sounds. i'll cough incessantly and leave you to make sense of the puffs of smoke i emit. come back for the spectacle, won't you?
i've been naive to think that 8 hours of something i don't enjoy will not still be 8 hours--1/3 of my day--spent. while i'm loading up my bottom lip, how about topping it off with a complaint? i hope you'll forgive me. for everything i've done and everything i haven't.
matchstick hunter, where you gonna find your kill?
3 comments:
a-freaking men.
here's to figuring out what we actually wanting to do--and hoping that it leads to making a significant amount of money.
it doesn't even have to be significant, just more than a public school teacher.
sorry julia...
public school teacher?
Jules, you are the most amazing writer. Blew me away.
xo-Hannah Jane
Post a Comment