Sunday, March 14, 2010


there is nowhere to sit in borders and my bum hurts on this stool. i look at shelves and shelves of books and i'm jealous these people found the time to write and one day met an agent and then a publisher and they met someone who said "yes." and i hope these authors are taking care of their families with their book. if they are an honest and vibrant and worthy author. not russell brand, who has one called booky wook. i would like to like my job. i'm always unhappy. i would like some flexibility and holidays and benefits and joy. i would like my mfa please. i want to learn, teach, grow, create. i want european sabbaticals and book writing. i want a hot sub-saharan summer. i want a home in portugal and flights to new york for music and taking the kids to shows and shopping and central park and serendipity. a little girl with a french accent tellin' me stories. visiting spain and practicing spanish with friends. people like sabrina make me sad and hopeful and melancholy and brave. shawn says things are looking up. i hope they are. i hope they are.

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