Having a big fancy job doesn't necessarily mean that it's always full of big-fancy and exciting things during the day. I've just spent the past workday sitting in a conference about the "new face" of the publishing industry. It's interesting, for sure, when it's interesting -- if you know what I mean -- but when things like that are boring, my goodness are they booorrriiinnngggg.
I spend more time thinking about how smart people stay smart by attending lots of these things, but then I wonder if any jackass can become a motivational speaker just by setting up a web site and calling themselves so...
Anyway, on a more exciting note. I started my poetry class on Tuesday night. It's always fun to start a class, and especially continuing education classes where people are there because they have a love for the subject matter. Oh, and it doesn't hurt that the teacher is hot -- like, totally, wish-he-was my poet boyfriend, smoking, drinking, walking stereotype of hot smart guy, hot.
Now I wish that my poems didn't totally suck and that they weren't so bloody self-involved. If anyone wants to read them and tell me otherwise (wink wink) let me know because I'm suffering from a crippling sense of self-doubt this week about everything in my writing life.
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