The Problem is ...
- For Ladies, Humor
My days are running after each other. I wake. I coffee. I copy. I worry.
Sometimes I need to just,
I noticed it today. I guess I like to think I'm superhuman. There's only so much one person can do.
I do that, sometimes I do more than two or three people could ever hope to do. I carry the weight. I people - please. I set myself up to fail because I don't like to think - I can't. Do. Anything.
My mom would tell me all the time I was going to be disappointed making everyone else happy. When I would say "I cannot believe this [or that] happened!" She would say "if I just lived long enough..." and we would laugh. The problem is when is someone else going to jump fiery hula hoops trying to make me happy? Has that happened? Has my fairytale happened or is it just one glorified lie and lots of headaches and coffee?
The problem therein is...
The problem is there's double-edged karate chops to every thing, every person, and every experience that you love. Love something too much and watch how it disappoints you. Love a person unconditionally and watch how humanly they betray you. Love your dreams too hard and watch how quickly your egg white omelette burns in the skillet.
I'm just kidding. I don't love cooking that much. Lol.
I do not exaggerate when I say this Orgreenic Skillet is the best investment I've made this year. Don't laugh at me, I use less almond oil, and my skillet is sexy.
(They did not hire me to write this copy, but you all don't believe me now)
The problem is. You're scared. Did I say you, I meant me? Did I finish that query letter yet. Yes. Did I send it. No.
The problem is.
I'm not sure I even have a few chapters, lines, maybe paragraphs. What kills us all is comparison.
It's killing me in my relationship. It's killing me in my writing. It's killing me as I strive to be the best I can be, the perfectionist is a slip knot, the floor is slippery. Fuck you, fuck you all. Lol.
She is my fav, and she is all me - her look and style. Hayden Williams - hit me up. I think I need an illustrator for my book. Wait, I'll hit you after my imaginary agent hits me back. Stay logged in.
The problem is... what we love.
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