Even though this week sucked major ass, I'm extremely grateful for aspects of my life that unexpectedly kept me more level-headed--sort of.

With my internship, it's a bittersweet appreciation because though I enjoy how the internship is set up and the people who work on it, I feel out of place. I'm quiet, I can't chime in as easily as I want to. Sometimes it sounds like they're speaking in a completely different language; it's disconcerting. However, after going to the second editor's meeting, I feel more at ease. Though, I'm still not as talkative, I feel that they understand that I don't have much to say, but that I'm there. That I exist. I'm thankful for my past TAs who work there with me because though I never made myself all that noticeable, I honestly relish being in their presence and interacting with them.

Additionally, even though they warn me about what's coming up in the future, they give me hope because they're still living it. If they can do it, if they can live such a difficult life, why can't I?

I went to a reading for Julia Glass on Tuesday and she said something about reading John Gardener's novel, about becoming a novelist. Gardener mentioned in his book that so many writers "fold up their wings" and quit. But even when she felt like giving up, that quote gave her reason to persevere.

I don't want to fold up my wings before I even tried because life is about great struggles and about great rewards.



I'd carry Urban Germany's babies if I weren't so damn infertile.