The first day of March was a horrible one. I’ll fill you in on the details later, but just trust me when I say I almost quit.
With a little time between me and the day from hell, I’m feeling still pretty much defeated and disgusted, but there is a little glimmer of hope. I keep reminding myself that we can’t see around the corner, there is something coming that I don’t know about and it’s all going to be okay.
I spent the morning reading our submissions for Listen To Your Mother. We got some really great stories. I’m excited to meet with Heather and Julie next week, excited to talk about the entries, excited about seeing the live auditions.
It feels good to know I’m succeeding at least with this.
This day is going to be beautiful outside. I’ve got some serious catching up to do with my Shakespeare class, and an upcoming notoriously fierce test on Tuesday. Last Thursday’s test was a disaster, setting the stage for the next 24 hours worth of disaster. I’m determined not to let Tuesday turn out the same way.
Well…about ten minutes out of each hour I’m determined. Then it gets gross in my head. But for those ten minutes?
I’m kicking some ass.