One of my least favorite things about being a "grown-up" is that it gets harder and harder to find things to look forward to. (Crap. I ended that sentence in a preposition. I'm in edit mode, so I'm trying to be better. Let's try that again.)
One of my least favorite things about being a "grown-up" is that finding things to look forward to gets harder and harder. When I was in school, I loved counting down the days to the next break- Spring, Summer, Winter, whatever! And birthdays! Oh how I looked forward to my birthday. Now, birthdays are just another day (except I do get to eat cake without any remorse). And summer feels like any other season in my windowless office.
I thought about signing up for this for the class for months, but I wasn't sure if it would "do anything" for me. Seems like if I want to write a story, I should just write it. And if I want to edit a story, I should just edit it. But after spending almost three years writing the story and months of editing the same five chapters, I'm realizing that things need to change. I'm ready to learn, and not too proud to admit that I need some help. Maybe the class won't solve anything, but maybe it will. I'm willing to try!
Back to school! If it doesn't work out, then I'll have the end of the class to look forward to. (Crap... I'll look forward to the end of class.)