OMGOMG. Oh. My. God. My first article got accepted, and three more writing assignments were suggested for me to pick from. Holy shit!!!! They even asked me what name I want to write under, and that will make me an officially published author. I was so hoping to change my name before that happened, but oh well. Unless there’s a miracle in the next week or I choose a pen name, my name is going to technically be all over the city. Just the thought makes me want to retreat to a library with some tea and headphones.
I can’t help thinking that it’s a mistake, and they’re going to fire me any minute. I have a panic attack every day after work, freaking out over mistakes I made. It seems like the worst kind of madness, trying to make a living by communicating in words- when depression, panic attacks, and horrible historical events rendered me wordless for such large periods of time. Not any more. It’s bumpy with occasional verbal vomit, but overall much better. Writing is always much easier than speaking; it gives me longer to translate the language in my head that’s more in color, shape, silhouette, and disco ball sparkle.
Primitive Love Rites- Mondo Rock
I Know What Boys Like- The Waitresses
Jane’s Getting Serious- Jon Astley
Kiss You When It’s Dangerous- Eight Seconds
Hard Out Here- Lily Allen
Born This Way- Lady Gaga
Destination Unknown- Marietta