I finally made a blog. A lot easier than a novel. Maybe people will read it. Maybe people will enjoy it. Maybe not. It’s too soon to tell, but my fingers are crossed.
I considered majoring in journalism, but I chose a career in healthcare like so many in my family had before me. I wrote poetry privately in college and shared it with two people total. A guy friend who also liked poetry and my mom. She said I was a good writer, so I didn’t believe her obviously. My husband knows I like to write and claims I’m good at it, so naturally I didn’t believe him either. He claims my cooking is good yet I often burn dinner, so he’s got a way of putting things in a positive and partial (and he’s just too nice to be true) light.
One day at work, my coworkers and I entertained ourselves by writing fake love letters (well, emails) to one another to spoof a seemingly creepy suitor-flirt’s interest in one lovely lady in our department. From that, they claimed I should write. I thought that was code for that email was funny but I’ve decided to cave to the encouragement.
Look, Mom! I’m writing! This post is going into the Neverland of the internet, and I hope to the high heavens (or nirvana or Elysium) that someone out there likes it. Someone beyond my mom or my husband. Or my coworkers. Because I’m starting to think they’re just being partial too. So here we go…