My Week. And Thoughts. In a Nutshell.

This week.

I submitted two stories and a rewrite to different websites and one literary publication.

I learned that March 9th is my last day of work. And I'm so excited but nervous, too. Because I want the next thing I do to be something I want to do. Something for me.

I got an incredibly nice email from my old boss who appreciated my notes on his script. (After I emailed his assistant because I was worried I may have offended him by writing so many notes.) But he told me he thought he taught me well. And I even got an xo in the bargain.

I wrote a profile for one of my best friends for match.com.

I signed up for match.com to make my friend happy. And unsigned up for match.com to make me happy.

I found out that March 9th will be my last day of work. And I'm happy and scared. And I'm hoping for a miracle.

A woman at Harper Collins in New York surprised me by being the biggest champion for my company without even knowing it. And moving things along when I can't even do that myself because of the hours I'm working. And then, when I showed her my vision, she told me she thought it would be a success. This woman? She's studying to get her MBA in public administration. I picture her office. I picture it as small. And of her deserving something big. I plan to send her flowers.

I wondered about the men that got away. The friends that got away. And why it is that some people get or go away. For no reason at all. When there's every reason to stay.

I was hurt by hearing that a friend talked about me behind my back. In a not very nice way. Actually it was pretty mean. It was pretty mocking. It was someone I helped alot, someone I supported and defended. And someone I needed. So it made me cry. And realize. Maybe I don't need this person after all. And maybe it's good I learned it so I can let this person go. And my friend who heard it? She stood up for me. I've never been one of those girls. That talked shit about the other girls. That gossiped and enjoyed it. And even if this was a man, a gay man. It hurt me that he did.

I cried because I don't know how long I can do this. How long I can wait for it to all happen for me. I've been waiting a long time.

I wondered, if I jumped, who would care?

And then I thought, if I jumped and lived. I would be a mess. And that's worse, not better.

My friends and I spent the night studying up on the history of the man who could make the company a success. A man with talent, intelligence, history, and age. I have to call him next week and I'm nervous. Because it means everything.


My checker at Trader Joe's asked me out. And said, "The older the better." And the odd thing is? It actually was a compliment. And it sure beat the time I had to put my food back because I couldn't afford to pay for it.

I had no time to write and I'm supposed to read in my writing in class this Sunday. And I'm tired of apologizing for too many hours I had to work and not enough things that I wrote. When I want to write. That's all I want to do. And just wanting it doesn't prove it or put words on the page.

My friend Kelly said, "You worked every night during high school? No wonder you didn't have a boyfriend." And it made me sad. Because I didn't want to work so much and I wanted a boyfriend and it's crazy that something that happened in high school can still make me sad. And I wonder if maybe I hadn't worked so much then and had a boyfriend then, I'd be in a different place right now. A better one. Or at least maybe it wouldn't make such a difference.

I dropped off my friend's birthday present at her store and saw how great her remodel looks. And it made me happy for her.

I thought how amazing the woman who saved my cat Little is. I love the little guy him all my heart and soul. He's cheerful and amusing and present and he hugs. A cat. Who hugs! What could be better?

I took a walk with my friend Romy in the rain. Then we came home and drank too much wine. And cried. Yes, this week had a lot of crying.

We watched Sasha Cohen skate like a rock star.

I read Lisa Glatt's short story in "Swivel". And it made me swivel.

I dreamt about my old cheerleading squad all cheering in a movie for my old TV show boss and spent the entire post dream wondering why they were cheering and I wasn't and trying to figure out the timeline and how that could be possible.

I got wonderful emails from three friends out of the blue. And a phone call, too. People who told me they missed me and cared and said other nice things. Things that mattered. I printed them out.

I thought about how amazing my mother is. That she's a survivor. And that being a survivor is sometimes the hardest thing to be.

I cried because it's been so many jobs I don't want to do. And there are so many things I do want to do. And I don't think I can do the jobs I don't want to do anymore. That scares me. Because there's only me.

I picked out a pair of shoes and a shirt and a necklace and a dress that I liked off of different websites. And I printed the pages out as if doing that would make them mine. And even though I do that all the time. I thought maybe this time a miracle might happen and I can have that dress, wear that dress on my 38th birthday. And I thought. That might even make it worth celebrating.

I saw that Tracey Ross charged $55 more for a pair of shoes than the designer did on their website. Not that I could afford either one. But it bothered me nontheless.

I read a story I wrote in my last workshop and was embarrassed to see just how far I'd fallen and just how far I've come.

I wondered if independent had to mean alone and just what it meant to men. Do they think that independent means she doesn't want to be taken care of, cares more about a career than a family, or is that just the way it works out sometimes?

And then I wondered why some men think that together makes it okay to cheat and why they're with women who they're apologizng for or complaining about and cheating on anyway.

My old roommate told me he saw the ex-convict and his baby and his girlfriend. And that he looked happy. And although I want him to be happy, I think my ex-roommate said it to hurt me. And it did.