I was born. I was thoroughly educated. I taught third grade. I hated the work. I quit. I returned to school. I worked as a librarian. I had an NBD. I returned to the Real World. I worked in a law office. I moved. I worked as a librarian. I quit. I returned to school. I worked for a very long time as a freelancer. I quit nonfiction article writing.
I now write humor. I'm alive and kicking. My work is therapeutic, finally. I'm earning less than I ever did. My prestige is nonexistent. I'm planning another NBD before I die. I've transformed myself into another person (see red hair, fake teeth, unshaved arm pits, etc). When I read memoirs, I wonder if I could pitch one to an agent. I fantasize, I agonize, I theorize. I wonder when it will all end.
I now write humor. I'm alive and kicking. My work is therapeutic, finally. I'm earning less than I ever did. My prestige is nonexistent. I'm planning another NBD before I die. I've transformed myself into another person (see red hair, fake teeth, unshaved arm pits, etc). When I read memoirs, I wonder if I could pitch one to an agent. I fantasize, I agonize, I theorize. I wonder when it will all end.
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