Terribly sorry for the absence. I get so caught up in well, everything else that I forget I even have a blog. Promise to do better. Cross my heart. So on and so forth.
While I should feel inspired at the moment to write, I don't. It's a terrible thing to go through--especially now. I got news last week that I got accepted into Mizzou's creative nonfiction MA program, allowing many things to fall into place. Trever and I will now graduate at the same time, married, and then can move on to...whatever. We can live together. No more commuting and passing 2 pooches off between apartments. Relief.
I'm on a path to be a writer, which admittedly is a late-to-the-game career path for me. My undergrad degree is just literature, no writing in sight. I'm nervous. My workshop teacher this semester was on the admissions board and I'm the last to be workshopped. Fu--
What the hell am I going to write about? That's the real problem--maybe I can write that? Shit. This is supposed to be easy. I mean it's easy in that I love writing, I love being creative and subjects and predicates get me off, but damn if this isn't hard. I told Trever that the next 2 years I would be an angsty writer, and that he should prepare himself. All I got in reply was "As opposed to...?"
I mean, I'm elated to actually have a vague outline of a life plan fall in to place, but I can't help from feeling like I'm in way over my head. I could ask all the romantic comedy questions like "Can I do this?" and after some slight trouble, I overcome all obstacles and achieve more than I ever thought I was capable of. Ugh. Life is not like that. Right now, I'm happy I can live with my fiance, stay in Columbia, be at the school of my dreams (really) and start my life as a big girl.
But I'm also scared shitless. Writing isn't easy. I love it and hate it at the same time. Apart from only liking one piece I've ever written, I wonder about my abilities. I wish I could have a job and do exactly what I'm doing right now. Postal Service, no bra, elastic pants, in bed, dog laying across my legs and another on the floor beside me.
Universe: IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?
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