I just want to say that I have a wonderful short story lurking in my noggin but had to write an article for work, which was a total boring bummer compared to this crazy story in my brain.
My wonderful sis-in-law is taking me for a massage and mani and pedi tomorrow, and I hope to squeeze in some writing before then. Tomorrow could be the best day EVER.
p.s. WHY I WRITE: Annie mentioned the other day that relationships have a way of making us lose our identity. As a woman who directs her energy mostly towards her kid (soon to be kids), husband and job - who in fact, is being alternately smacked and hand-fed cookie crumbs by her 3 year old even as she types - I understand that identity is a slippery thing. Writing is my way of thinking. It's how I figure out the world. It's where I do things I've always wanted to do. It's where I hope one day to be all edgy and push acceptable social norms and be seen as a totally unique brave soul. No pressure or anything.
I like your idea about why you write.
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