So I didn't get the position at George Washington (a one year visiting writer appointment). I didn't really think I would, but there was this tiny little glimmer of hope. I wonder sometimes if I'll ever have a full-time teaching gig. Then I wonder if I really want one. I think I just really want to be compensated. There is nothing more frustrating than working and working and working and getting paid in peanuts or working and working and working with no guarantee that I will ever be paid. Welcome to the writing life.
Good news is, nothing like adversity to light a fire under my heinie. I have been revising like a madly. My benevolent agent-in-waiting is now waiting for the whole revised enchilada which I have promised to send by February 20th.
Esmee, my late-talker, can say her name now, but she has to say it in two syllables...and with much coaxing. EZ. MAY.
I'm feeling blue. I really wanted this job.
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