I keep eating ice cream and now I'm thinking that maybe I'm deficient in something that is causing me to crave dairy. I even thought about having a glass of milk and milk in an unadulterated state disgusts me. And, yes, I know...I have girly bones and calcium is very, very important, but ew.

Anyway, I had a very crappy day and really wanted to start crying so people would say, "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" and then I could say, "Everything! I hate you!" and maybe that would make me feel better. But, you know, things could be worse and I need to shut up. Yeah.

But before I could throw a tantrum, my coworker says, "Did you see that we're too good to be true?" I'm like, huh? "The note. Did they show it to you?" she asks. I shake my head no and she commands me to go look on my boss's desk.

The city has these little postcards that people can send to City Hall informing them that one of the employees is doing a good job. I see one of these cards on the desk and pick it up.

First thing I read is my name and my coworker's name written in all caps. Then I see where it says that we're "too good to be true." Under that is a list of qualities like helpfulness, friendliness, general knowledge of our job, etc. with the numbers 1-5 following each one. This person had circled all the fives and then added an exclamation point to each trait.

This seriously made my fucking day.

Anyway, tomorrow I will be going to a writing conference that runs until Saturday. It's an all day thing and I'm already anticipating some form of truancy to the nearby museums. That doesn't mean I'm not really excited about this and am already circling the classes I want to take in pink ink.

No.

I'm just really nervous. I don't know why I am really nervous, but I am. Granted, I don't know anyone going this year and I'm socially inept to the point where I'm a caricature of myself, but I don't think that's it. Really. I think I'm just worried that I'll get disenchanted or something and realize that I've wasted years on something that will never happen.

OK, this may turn into a rant. Just a warning cuz I care and shit.

Last year at this conference, every person there was either retired and writing or someone who considered writing their hobby. I was one of about half a dozen people under the age of 40.

People would ask what I was going to do with my life. You know, college and careers and shit. I would say I'm going to write. I will be a writer. They, in turn, would tsk tsk and say how cute I was for believing that I will write. Just wait until reality sinks in, they'd say. You can't live as a writer.

I hate that. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. You have every right to whatever hobbies you want, but do not tell me that I'm fucking dreaming when I say I will do this and I will live it.

This is what I want to do. I have made this my life and I'm not about to give up just because the money ain't rolling in and the legions of fans aren't rooting through my trash for souvenirs. I know the risks. People remind me of them all the fucking time. How can I forget? And yet I still want to do it. Hell, I WILL do it. You gotta have faith in something or what reason will you have to open your eyes in the morning and face the world?

I can barely write this out and still make sense. Deep breaths. One, two, three.

OK, am I making it sound like I don't like hobby writers? Cuz I honestly have nothing against them. Hell, some of my best friends are hobby writers. Ha ha. That was a joke. Get it? Um, yeah. Sorry about that. Seriously, though, anyone who writes anything deserves respect. It's just when one type tells the other type they're wrong...that's what pisses me off. I won't ask you to stay up for 48 hours writing and writing until that story is the best it will ever be and even that's barely good enough because just how often are you completely satisfied with what you created? So don't tell me that I'm being unrealistic. Don't say anything about REAL jobs and shouldn't you at least go to college for something useful? And don't you dare say "Oh, to be so young and idealistic again" and then laugh with your goddamn friends.

Fuck, I'm more irritated at this than I thought. And kinda defensive. Which means I'm probably having...doubts. About me. Not good. I apologize for the irrational nature of this entry, but I needed to get this out lest I stay awake all night thinking about it.

Goddamn second-guessing yourself.

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