Dear readers

I apologize for my prolonged and repeated absences. I am not dead, have not moved to an Internet-free commune out in the wilderness of Wyoming, am not currently suffering a dibilitating illness that prevents my fingers from typing. In case you were worried, that is.

Instead, I've sold my soul and my semester as well to the newspaper, which, I keep telling myself, will be worth it in the end. (Sometimes, you have to tell yourself things.)

Once upon a time -- I was maybe ten -- my father told me never to pursue something I loved as a hobby for a career. He said it would make me hate it.

It seemed an awfully depressing bit of advice at the time, but I think now, maybe, I'm sort of seeing where that could start to be true. Although, I can't really say this is a "career" -- they'd have to pay me reasonable money for that, and I am still quibbling over a ridiculously small sum of money that they have yet to pay me for work over the summer (what's sadder still is how ridiculously much getting this check -- pidly as it is -- means to me) so that I could not really say they "employ" me in any real, meaningful, work-and-be-paid sense of the word.

Anyway, dear readers, if I seem bitter, it's because I am. But come the end of November, I should, with any luck, be returned to my normal, plucky self. (Well, I'll be returned to myself anyway -- I have my doubts as to whether or not "normal" should ever be used when referring to myself.)

XOXO,

Caro

previously | http://parenthetical.org/ | next