So What Are You, Really?

So there I was, elbow-deep in shallow revisions, and then I set my computer aside for a minute so I could stare into the horizon and contemplate how much I loathed my manuscript.

I don't, actually, by the way. I really, really, would-totes-date-like my story, and it has been an impossibly wonderful journey working on it and so on. Trip of my life so far, actually! It's just that I've been reading a lot of TransMet lately, and I can't help but idolize Spider Jerusalem. Just...read the comic some time.

Back to rant:

I was flustered because I am doing a thing I have never done before, in a time and place I've never been, and new things are bothersome when you secretly pine for easy things because you are a Lazy Person. I had a moment of weakness and a bit of a pout, and then a nasty thought crept into my head:

"What if I'm just a bakery clerk?"

Oh, shudder. Gag. Stifling sounds. Please, no. Anything but that.

I don't think there's anything wrong with being a bakery clerk. I don't think there's anything wrong with working in a deli, or with washing dishes, or any means of doing what it is that fulfills you. Go you! You have made it!

It's just that I don't want to be a bakery clerk. It doesn't make me happy, because it doesn't make me feel like I've put my best work into the world. It's just not what I can do best, when I am at my best. And that's something I need in order to be a happy Lark. It's something that I hope everyone gets to experience, at least once.

So frustration is okay. Because that at least means I'm trying, right? And I'd rather try and try until I'm blue in the fingertips (because typing) than know that I'm always going to have to cringe when people ask me what I 'do.'

So, bowler cap back on, manuscript reloaded :)

We'll talk again soon!