I am a single woman living in a big city, struggling to pay every single bill, trying to make ends meet, and trying to make a name
I just applied for a job at Eater as an editor in their NYC office. I haven't felt this nervous since I skated in my first bout. Graduating from college is like fucking sleeping compared to this. I can't even maintain composure right now. Fuck composure, I can barely even formulate a comprehensive sentence. It's not the most eloquently written submission, but its true to me as a writer, stylistically speaking for that matter. Holy shit, future.
It is a new year (I'm jewish) and it has to be better than last, because last year (as indicated in the inaugural post and so forth) I went trough some shit.
This is the year that I dedicate myself to the thing I love most: writing. I am committed; more so than that, I am tired of working for people who can't navigate their way out of a paper bag. I am not some fucking hack writer; I've got an invaluable skill set, a keen eye, an unquenchable thirst, and an insatiable hunger for writing, and someone is going to finally notice. All in all, even if you work for someone you don't like, you might as well hate your boss and love your job.
EXCELSIOR!
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