The sun was out, warm, 70's. I went back to Granby, Colorado, thinking about the little place we would go and get breakfast, sat on tall chairs at tall tables. Hearing the men who were construction workers yammering about things. The breakfast there was hardy. Outside we could see the mountains. We planned our day. . .
And then reality would shoot me back.
I'm driving a frigging bus. Oh, damn.
I was in a good mood, for a while, and just had to keep going. It's just that way.
I knew exactly what I would be doing once I got home. I'd read through that section that the editor edited, and I thought it sounded pretty good. I really didn't want to sit on it all weekend. So, I sent it off.
I can't explain my feelings over this whole episode. I'm not excited, I'm not anxious, I don't know how to feel about it.
Times past I'd be nervous, I'd be despondent about whether or not this person thought my writing was good enough. Right now I'm in this "whatever" pose. Whatever will be will be, I guess.
So, the weekend is a long 3-day affair. I'm working tomorrow again. Bluckh! I'm hoping to get next Saturday off for a change. I hate working Saturdays, but it's money.
No comments:
Post a Comment