#3: I’m in constant fear of getting fired from my new job.
I’ve done nothing to upset the boat (in fact, the boss folk, with their alien boss heads, have seemed complimentary of the current workplace dynamic since my arrival). And yet, I still feel aloof. I crack lame jokes. The air conditioner whooshes “imposter” under the guise of fluorescent lighting.
Someone let me into a secret club that gives money and healthcare and they haven’t yet noticed that I don’t belong.
I have a (secret) tail.
… You used to be able to write a story without that unnecessary sense of dread? When your favorite pastime was curling up in a corner with your ridiculous & expensive hipster notebooks and pens and write characters that are like you, but unlike you enough that simpler people can’t tell the difference? Remember that chest of notebooks in your old room that your Mom doesn’t know about and if she ever found them, she’d disown you as her child?
That was awesome.
Instead, now, in the frigidity of your empty room, you fear the blank page. You fear white walls. Everyone around tells you to dive, dive, dive. And all you can think about is how you’re going to drown in it.
And here I thought this was going to be the optimistic post?Hence this photo.